


STORMBORN

by kayekrystille



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, Game of Thrones References, Inspired by A Song of Ice and Fire, Organized Crime, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-05-13 03:25:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 28
Words: 90,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14741150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayekrystille/pseuds/kayekrystille
Summary: A MODERN GAME OF THRONES AU.Daenerys "Stormborn" Targaryen is the daughter of Aerys Targaryen- the leader of the largest crime syndicate in Westeros, the Dragon Mob. Upon the death of her brother, Rhaegar, she fled and joined the Order of the Seven - an intelligence agency devoted to protect the weak and bring an end to all criminal organizations.On her 239th mission, she was tasked to track a handsome but deadly criminal, Jon Snow, who is involved in illegal trading of highly advanced weaponry to mobs around Westeros and Essos.Complications arise when Jon Snow pursues his pursuer. Will Daenerys join the dark side and embrace her history or will she finish what she's started?___________________Date Started:November 28, 2016Status:Writing in progress





	1. ⚜ABOUT⚜

**  
  
  
  
S T O R M B O R N**

a fan fiction novel

by

KayeKrystille  
  
  
  


⚜SYNOPSIS⚜  
__________________________

Daenerys "Stormborn" Targaryen is the daughter of the oldest crime syndicate in Westeros, Aerys Targaryen. Upon the death of her brother, Rhaegar, she fled and joined the Order of the Seven - an intelligence agency devoted to protect the weak and bring an end to all criminal organizations.

On her 239th mission, she was tasked to track a handsome but deadly criminal syndicate aliased Jon Snow who is involved in illegal trading of highly advanced weaponry to mobs around Westeros and Essos.

Complications arise when Jon Snow pursues his pursuer. Will she join the dark side and embrace her history or will she finish what she's started?  
  
  


⚜CHARACTERS⚜  
_________________________

Emilia Clarke as  _Daenerys Targaryen_

  
Kit Harrington as  _Jon Snow_

  
Rose Leslie as  _Ygritte_

  
Richard Madden as  _Robb Stark_

  
  
  
  
⚜AUTHOR'S NOTES⚜  
__________________________

All my gratitude to George R. R. Martin! You are amazing, sir. You have given me a utopia that I couldn't even begin to express how much I adore it. All this, belongs to you.

And to the people who just started reading this, I hope you'll like it. I posted this first in Wattpad. My readers advised me to post it here since there are others who try to copy my work. That doesn't bother me, though. I'm very flattered that I've inspired other writers. Just no plagiarizing please! Thank you! Anyway, you guys enjoy. This AU has a present-time modern vibe to the world of Ice and Fire so be ready.

Sending you all love with a JONERYS & KIMILIA  heart.


	2. ⚜PROFILES⚜

**CLASSIFIED MISSION**  
**NO. DT94-0239**  
______________________  
PROTOCOL: TRACK THE DEALER,   
CAPTURE THE SUPPLIER  
72 HRS

 **PROFILES**  
**______________________**  
**D A E N E R Y S**  
**T A R G A R Y E N**  
A . K . A .   " S T O R M B O R N "  
Dragon's Daughter, Firestarter, Dyanna Tarryn

Position: Tactical Agent  
Gender: Female Status:  **ACTIVE**  
Height: 5'4" Weight: 120lbs  
Eyes: Violet Hair: Silver

Born: October 23, 1994   
Birthplace: Dragonstone  
Nationality: Valyrian  
Languages: High Valyrian, Dothraki, Braavosi, Westerosi, Pentoshi

Identifiable Marks:  None

 **Relations** :  
• Daughter of  _Aerys Targayen_  — founder of crime syndicate, "Dragon Mob" DECEASED  
• Sister of  _Rhaegar Targaryen_  — firstborn heir to Dragon Mob, Agent of the Seven DECEASED  
_•_ Sister of  _Viserys Targaryen_  — leader of Dragon Mob

Affiliations: Order of the Seven (Agent)

 **Skill Set:**  
• lethal in one-on-one combat, highly trained in judo, karate, ninjutsu and multiple styles of kung fu  
• superb marksmanship in artillery  
master of deception, infiltration and demolition  
• exceptional hacker and assassin

 **Total Missions: 238**  
**Missions Accomplished: 236**  
**Missions Unaccomplished: 002**

**Agent's Ranking: 5**

**______________________**  
**J O N   S T A R K**  
A . K . A .   " S N O W"  
Jon Snow, White Wolf

Title: C.E.O. of Nightswatch Enterprises  
Gender: Male   
Status:  **IN PURSUIT**  
Height: 5'10" Weight: 190lbs  
Eyes: Black Hair: Black

Born: May 26, 1992  
Birthplace: Starfall  
Nationality: First Men  
Languages: Westerosi

Identifiable Marks:  Scars on right cheek and right temple, burn marks on right hand, stab marks in chest and stomach

 **Relations** :  
• Bastard of  _Eddard Stark_  — warden of the North, Lord of Winterfell DECEASED 1969-2011  
• Brother of  _Robb Stark_  — Lord of Winterfell, Agent of the Seven  **ACTIVE**

Affiliations: 2012 - Founded Nightwatch Enterprises — largest weapon factory and trade

Current Whereabouts: Unknown  
Last seen: 11/5/14, Asshai Black Market

 **Criminal Record:**  
• manufacturing and smuggling advanced artillery to syndicates of Essos and Westeros  
• underground illegal tradesman of weaponry  
• promoter of illegal fighting pits  
• multiple counts of murder allegations

 **Skill Set:**  
• an intelligentsia of Westeros  
• lethal in sword and one-on-one combat  
• highly trained in jujitsu, aikido, boxing, ancient Dornish assault and wrestling  
• superb marksmanship in archery and artillery  
• master manipulator and tactitian

 **P O T E N T I A L**  
**I N T E L L I G E N C E .**  
**S E I Z E  I N  S I G H T .**

 **______________________**  
**" Y G R I T T E "**  
A . K . A . Red, The Wildling Bride

     

Title: Dealer of Nightswatch Enterprises   
Gender: Female   
Status:  **IN PURSUIT**  
Height: 5'7" Weight: 140lbs  
Eyes: Blue Hair: Red

Born: Unknown  
Birthplace: Unknown  
Nationality: Wildling  
Languages: Westerosi, ancient language of the First Men               

Identifiable Marks:  Bullet wound on stomach

 **Relations** :  
Family DECEASED  
2015 dealer and courtesan of  _Jon Stark —_ leader of "Nightswatch Enterprises"

Affiliations: Nightwatch Enterprises (Dealer)

Current Whereabouts: Meereen Underground Trading  
Last seen: 9/29/16, Harpy Shipyard, Meereen

 **Criminal Record:**  
• multiple counts of theft  
• smuggling advanced weapon technology to Essos

 **Skill Set:**  
• exceptional marksmanship in archery and artillery  
• highly trained in jujitsu

 **P O T E N T I A L**  
**I N T E L L I G E N C E .**  
**S E I Z E  I N  S I G H T .**

**______________________**


	3. 1 | THE MISSION

________11/29/2016 ________

PROTOCOL: TRACK THE DEALER, CAPTURE THE SUPPLIER.

"Do you think she could pull it off?" Jamie Lannister smirked at the commander of the Order of the Seven. "Brother, she is too...soft."

Jamie was inside of the head office as Missandei stitched the laceration on his chest.

Tyrion, the tactical commander, turned the screen that showed Daenerys's and her targets' profiles.

"Soft? I think not. She's the only operative who got in close proximity to Snow." He looked at Jamie, the top of the rank agent of the Order, and said, "tell me brother, have you even seen Snow in the flesh?"

"He bores me." His blond hair gleamed as he stroked it, looking indifferent. "Snow gets seen when he wants to be seen."

"That makes you unequipped to indulge in this mission then. But are you suggesting that he wanted Dany to find him?" He asked, curious to know what idea Jamie was going for.

"She's a honey pot. I'm sure he finds her amusing." He chuckled.

Missandei punctured the needle extra deep and Jamie gave her a naughty smirk, unaffected by pain.

Tyrion continued fiddling with his computer, tired of his brother's tasteless humor.

"And oh, the wildling bitch, she's a feisty one but not cunning. She's easy enough to track." Jamie slid the piece of paper over Tyrion's desk. It filled with an address. "Stormborn should reach the location in less than 32 hrs. Ygritte never stays too long in one place."

The dwarf eyes widened in irritation by Jamie's no sense of urgency.

Jon Snow is their only key to all intel of the mobs hideout in Westeros and Essos. He's the only man who can disarm all of the syndicates in the country. They have to stop him and Dany is their only hope.


	4. 2 | THE OCTAGON RING

_________11/29/2016________  
_ __  
  
  
  


Robb Stark took a swig on his vitamin water and smiling playfully at Daenerys who was stretching on the floor, planting her forehead in between her shins. He was wearing his black sparring shorts. Meanwhile, Dany, in her signature braids, wore a white sports-bra and black tights.

In a minute, they were ready to spar.

"So you're in pursuit of my brother again?" In his fighting stance now.

"What's it to you?" She got up and leaned on the chainlink fence waiting for the referee's whistle. 

"He's still family." Robb smiled. "No matter what he's done."

"That's the reason you're not in this mission." She returned the smile but a warning slipped her lips, " And if a Stark compromises my plans, in no doubt I'm going to take him down."

"I'd like to see you try." He laughed and the whistle was blown. Dany stood up and Robb was charging towards her like a bull. He was a tackler after all.

Dany avoided him, grabbed his left arm up while she put her right leg on his right shoulder and crossed it with her other leg and squeezed.

She was strangling him in a scissors hold and they fell to the ground. Losing breath from the choke, Robb still managed to speak, "you really enjoy me between your legs, don't you?"

"Don't flatter yourself." She giggled and squeezed her legs tighter. But Robb coordinated himself and stood up by carrying her weight on his shoulders. His brute strength could lift two Danys while in a stranglehold.

Robb reached for her with his free right hand and his numb left to smash her little body onto the ground.

"Ow!" She whimpered. Her lack of energy used up from the scissors hold delayed her recovery and before she could maneuver her way out, she was tackled to the ground. Robb's legs and arms were pinning her limbs down.

"Now, before I finish you," he bared his perfect white teeth as he grinned. Red hair on fire and icy blue eyes glowed subtly as his face got nearer, breathing heavily. "Go out with me."

Dany eyes twinkled and she whispered something inaudible.

"What?" Robb lowered his head to hear her properly.

The light of opportunity beamed. Dany vigorously knocked their heads together and in effect, Robb loosened his grip. She could taste the sweet victory as she guillotine choke him with her toned arms, "I said, I should be ranked 4, not you!" but the bell rang too early.

"Playtime's over." Tyrion walked towards the ring with a hard expression on his face as he eyed Dany intently. "I have news."

"Commander," she greeted him, releasing her hold on Robb.

Robb laughed and panted. "Commander."

"Follow me." Tyrion walked out and motioned for Dany to join him.


	5. 3 | MISSIONS UNACCOMPLISHED: 002

________11/30/2016________

The glasses clinked as the man on a sleek blue tux proposed a toast. The briefing report of the commander stated that his name was Podric Payne, a new oil tycoon and this was his celebration for reaching Essos in trade.

The Order of the Seven suspects Snow is taking advantage of Payne's ships to smuggle erratic weapons and in return, introduce Payne to the oil trade in Essos. And Ygritte is doing all his dirty work.

"Stormborn in location for Classified Mission No. DT94-0239. Wildling bride not in sight." Dany spoke softly to her earpiece.

She was almost unrecognizable with her chocolate brown hair which was what she was going for. A Targaryen's silver hair would blow up her cover immediately.

Walking out of her table and on to the mezzanine to get a clearer view, people eyed her. Men stared desirably and women glanced with envy. She wore a rich emerald silk backless gown with a plunging V neckline and a high slit that bared up to her right thigh. A chinchilla boa wrapped around her arms to keep her warm and classy. It showed too much skin for her liking if she's actually going to a party but Dany's on official business and the outfit was necessary for her to move easily.

Her false identity was Dyanna Tarryn, heiress of the Tarryn mogul and her mission was to track the wildling to find Snow.

As she reached the balcony of the mezzanine, Ygritte was nowhere to be found and her patience is getting slimmer. Dany cannot fail this mission.  _Never again._

It was clearly instilled in her mind of how she failed twice in her 238 missions. The first time was her first assignment.

CLASSIFIED REPORT NO. 0001  
A young operative assassinates a drug lord against the orders of capture and interrogate.

_There was no assassination involved — it was purely justice. Robert Baratheon deserved every bit of torture I had given him after he betrayed my brother. I reckon there needs no questioning on that._

However the second time she failed was not exactly similar to the first one. It wasn't about her absolute disobedience to the order mandated by the commander. It was her skills that she doubted on that moment of difficulty.

CLASSIFIED REPORT NO. 0054  
Tactical Agent subdued by target. Infiltration successfully penetrated but pursuance of target failed.

_It was two years ago._

________11/3/2014________

The underground fighting pits were a private association then. It was fairly popular and exclusively for syndicates, business tycoons and corrupt politicians only.

When Dany managed to infiltrate the fighting pits of the Stormlands, familiar faces from all around Westeros were there.

Criminal masterminds were sharing cocktails with the district attorney and casually betting for their champion.

Politicians whose names she's not allowed to say are snaking their hands on high end whores of Lys.

Even members of her family's Dragon Mob were present and claimed to have known her from somewhere.

Obviously, she was in disguise in her black short hair and brown eyes to discourage more attention. Dany shrugged them off and pretended to be entertained by the match.

The fighting pits consist of 3 weaponless matches to the death. Each match has 5 rounds. Winner gets to live to fight again and loser has to die. Warriors from various corners around the world train to die fighting.

Blood and guts have been spilled and the crowd goes wild.

Agent Stormborn knew exactly who she was looking for. A man with comely brooding features, hair and eyes as black as the moonless night and wearing a black tux.

Her mission was to bring this new mobster for questioning for having transacted with the biggest criminal organizations in Westeros and awakening the fighting pits to a modern light.

His name was Jon Stark but they knew him as Snow. Dany thought he was just a ghost – a man made from hearsay and exaggeration to put him in the spotlight in all the Order of the Seven's problems so syndicates would peacefully hide in his shadow.  _But he was real._

He was once part of the Stark House, a royal family of the North.

Being born a bastard, he was raised with a silver spoon on his plate just as Daenerys was since they were among with the intelligentsia of Westeros.

But something in him cracked.

At 18, he renounced his riches and joined the Nights Watch and when his father died, he rebelled.

By the age of 20, he became the youngest C.E.O of a weapons manufacturing firm called Nightswatch Enterprises — a name to mock the men at the Wall.

A year later, he has armed all the gangs in Westeros and opened the fighting pits in his spare time.

And just as Daenerys was convinced that he has not showed up in the premises, she was ready to leave. "Snow is not here. Mission sus—"

"JOOOOOON SNOOOOOOW!"

Her head turned automatically to the announcer.  _There is no way he is going to—._

"Ladies and gentleman, people of Westeros, this night marks our history as the fight to remember. Our founder, our hero, the challenger for this evening will test his luck on the undefeated champ, The Mountain!"

Dany squeezed her way to the crowd to get closer to the ring and see this man with her own eyes.

"SNOW! SNOW! SNOW!" Every single entity in the room cheered as they busied their bets against him.

The Mountain was twice as large as the man Dany was staring at.

Calm and a bit drunk, Jon Snow threw the champagne glass he's been drinking from and undressed himself from his black suit. He left nothing but his black satin undershorts.

Jon Snow was something else Dany had not expected. Apart from his good looks and perfect physique, there was more to his character.  _An idiot._

But then she remembered her mission. Jon Snow can't die. Not now at least. She has to take him in for questioning.  _What can I do to save him?_

"FIGHT!"   
**______________________**

A ruckus below had brought her back from the memory.

"Target on sight," Dany eyed the wildling who showed up just in time and about to leave. "She knows we're here."

Her hair was kissed afire that flowed to her long sleeved navy chiffon dress that showed the center of her chest to her belly button.

 _"Track with caution."_ She heard her commander say as she calmly walked down the stairs.

Without warning, their eyes crossed paths and Ygritte's blue eyes widened before running out of the premises.

"She knows who I am."

_"You know what to do. Good luck."_

Dany backed off and gave her target a longer leash. She has to tail her from a distance for her to believe it was safe to go back to Jon Snow.

And that's when Dany seizes him in the most opportune moment.


	6. 4 | MISSION 54 Part One

__

 

 

________11/3/2014________

"FIGHT!"

The referee shouted and the crowd was on a rampage.

They were pushing each other closer to the ring and waving their money in the air.

Daenerys was weighing her options of shooting The Mountain in cold blood and get caught or cause a commotion to stop the fight and still get caught.

" _Stormborn! At all costs, do not compromise your cover. It will be suicide_." Tyrion warned on her earpiece.

"But if he dies..." She whispered softly.

" _His enterprise will die with him."_ Tyrion explained. " _Enjoy the show_."

Daenerys relaxed. Finally, she was paid to enjoy herself.

 _I need a drink_. She grabbed the champagne glass of an elderly aristocratic woman tattling to another.

The woman rolled her eyes to the young girl who chugged her drink all the way down but gave no mind and continued tattling.

Halfway to round one, Snow was not sporting blows. All he did was avoid the  slow but powerful fists of the Mountain.

Dany knew he had that advantage of being quick but quick does not always win from strong once he gets caught.

The crowd was laughing hysterically as he showed them that his opponent was nothing but "a giant fool! Is this your champion in my fighting pits?!" He screamed in his deep husky Northern accent.

"SNOW! SNOW! SNOW!"

The Mountain changed his demeanor into fury. He charged and charged on to the agile Jon Snow but he couldn't catch him.

Showering the handsome man with punches, one finally landed on his jaw that knocked Snow down.

Dany smiled.

Jon Snow got up and touched the small cut on his bottom lip. He licked it and smirked.

 _Finish that cocky asshole!_ Dany screamed in her mind, hopeful, as the Mountain was about to tackle him.

Squatting and charging, the Mountain was in enough height of the bastard's reach.

Snow swerved and with his left fist, punched the giant straight to his nose followed by his left elbow to cause more damage.

Dany couldn't internalize the strength of one punch to petrify a giant.

Blood splattered in the ring. It oozed from the bridge of the Mountain's nose.

Absorbing another set of punches, the giant fell back and the bastard climbed on to him hammering his fists to a face too destroyed to recognize.

If the referee hasn't stopped him, he could've broke the deadman's skull in large portions of skin, brain and bones.

"Winner!" The referee raised Snow's bloody right hand. He was back to his brooding expression but this time, covered in blood.

Dany realized his act of ridiculing his opponent was only to manipulate him to do what he wanted. He knew The Mountain was too tall for his arm reach so he had to find a way to get his own fists to the giant's face. The Mountain was a natural wrestler who apparently had a temper and Snow took advantage of it.

" _Proceed with the mission, Stormborn,"_ the commander ordered.

One worry came across her mind,  _how am I going to drag a madman to the headquarters without any scratch?_

Stormborn heard the high pitched laugh from a whore of Lys wearing nothing but sheer garments. She was sitting on a man's lap as she served him wine.

That gave Dany an idea.  _A woman's weapon._

The party continued at his newly purchased home in Stormlands called the Storm's End Mansion — the ancestral home of the deceased Robert Baratheon.

On her way there, she changed her outfit to a black dress with a sweetheart neckline that emphasized the roundness of her breasts and the curve of her hips. Dark red lipstick and high heels supposed to complete her look but her black wig didn't seem to fit well with the whole ensemble. It wasn't attractive enough nor flattering on her either.

Instead, Dany let her long silver locks flow and decided to be Daenerys Targaryen for tonight.

Her affiliations with the Order of the Seven is confidential and they didn't have to know her plans. She took the earpiece off and left it in her glove compartment.

The public knew of her only as the Dragon's daughter who fled with unknown whereabouts.

The ideal heiress of Viserys Targaryen would likely attend in feasts such as this and would surely attract a man like Jon Snow.

Oh, how pleased would her brother be when he receives the news that his sister has been found. 

"Welcome, my lady." There were no introductions needed when she entered the mansion.

One of Viserys's mobster, Illyrio, offered her a drink and escorted her immediately out of fear and respect. "My lady, the Dragon King will be delighted to hear your return."

That made her chuckle before sipping from her sparkling champagne, "he calls himself Dragon King now?"

"The title is well suited to his abilities in ruling, my lady. He has brought our mob to its former glory once again." He defended his master.

"Any fool who claims he knows my brother well would say such nonsense." She laughed. "But don't be offended. You will serve him with utmost loyalty. And trust me, my bother needs more of you," smiling sweetly, she let go of his arm and walked towards the crowd. Illyrio was left with confusion on his face.

In search for her target, she walked around and found him, all cleaned and dressed up again in his expensive black suit, engaging small talks with a Qartheen warlord.

To get his attention, all she needed to do was stay in plain sight of at most 8 meters away from where he was standing, watch the stage performers but steal short glances with eye contact and look pretty. It won't take long before he takes the bait.  _Okay, last glance._

But Jon Snow was not in sight.

_Has he left?  Did he know who I was working for? Have I just failed my miss—_

"Daenerys Targaryen," she almost jumped hearing his husky Northern accent above the loud music as he called her name from behind. 

T O   B E   C O N T I N U E D . . .  
 **______________________**


	7. 5 | MISSION 54 Part Two

________11/3/2014________   
  
  
  


"Daenerys Targaryen."

She almost jumped hearing his husky Northern accent above the loud music as he called her name from behind. It bewildered her how he moved undetected and now inches apart from her.

The cool fragrance of Jon Snow turned her into butter but still composed herself. "What they said about you was nothing but a lie."

"What have they said about me?" Her voice half-yelling and light violet eyes locked seductively on her target.

He moved closer as the blaring music started to wane their hearing. "That you were beautiful." He spoke softly in her ear. His hand on the small of her back sent shivers down her spine.

"And you disagree?" She surprisingly struggled in her well-trained act.

"Yes. Clearly, they haven't seen you through my eyes." His eyes were gleaming darkly on every part of her visible radiant skin and back to her eyes.

Dany suddenly felt naked. "And what do you see if I may ask?" She cleared her throat.

"Follow me." He offered his burnt hand and she took it. It was the hand that hammer fisted the Mountain and she liked to believe it was the giant's blood that kept it warm.

Dany was not familiar of the corridors that lay inside the mansion nor where he might be taking her — to the torture chamber or his bed. All she knew was that she wouldn't allow anyone to kill or rape her that night.

Through the festive crowd and various passageways after, they entered into a massive hall of granite with gilded ancient first men language carved on its strong walls.

"Have you heard of the man who built this fortress?" He asked.

"Durran Godsgrief," she remembered the stories Rhaegar used to tell her.

"That's right. And the Gods despised him after he stole one precious thing from them." He trailed his fingers on the wall and never let go of Dany's hand until they reached a golden statue of a mermaid raised by angry waves. Pointing at it, he said, "He stole Elenei, daughter of the Sea God and Goddess of the Wind."

"I'm well aware of the history of Storms End, Jon Snow." Dany leaned on the wall beside the statue. "The Age of Heroes were my bedtime stories."

"You asked me what I see in you." Moving closer with strides so calm, his face was inches from her now. The tips of his fingers traced the outline of her beautiful face, her neck, shoulder and arm leaving a zing of electricity she tried to conceal. "I will steal you from the Gods." His brooding dark eyes full of determination marveled on her.

Dany couldn't control her cheeks turning red. "You see Elenei in me?" She smirked, their nose touching.

"No." Snow moved his lips by her ear and whispered.  "I see a goddess."

 _Oh he's good_. Spellbound, she realized he was doing the seducing; not her. She had to take control. Pushing him to the wall with her hands on his neck, she said, "I am and you are my Storm king."

Snow smiled and slid his hands on her back pulling her close. Her breasts pressed against his hard chest.

They kissed passionately. His hands trailing every part of her, raising the hems of her dress to touch her thighs and all the while guiding her towards his bedroom without breaking their kiss.

When they reached a sleek black and gray bedroom with a balcony overseeing the Shipbreaker Bay, she pushed him to his silk black sheets. Climbing on top of him, she slowly unzipped her dress.

"You are mi..."Jon Snow lost consciousness. She smiled and zipped her dress back up. Her plan worked perfectly.

Her dark lipstick had a sedative component that dozes a man off for 24hrs.

She turned her tracking device on to signal the Order of the Seven. In an hour, a jet will arrive to take them both to the headquarters.

In the meantime, she laid down beside the most attractive man she ever saw and stared at his peaceful enchanting face. It was stupid but she left herself sniffing his scent. Dany had to admit that it aroused her deeply at the extent that she wished the sedative wouldn't work so instead, she could give him her maidenhead as Elenei did to Durran Godsgrief that angered the gods.

 _Get a grip! He's a criminal!_ Mad about herself, she stood up and checked his pockets. It was empty.

She headed to the bathroom and took her lipstick off. It had smudged all over her neck. That made her laugh. She couldn't even remember him kissing her there — just the feeling of it that warmed her shaking legs.

30 minutes more.

Washing her hands, she looked back at herself in the mirror. A dark figure of a man was already behind her.

Before she could react, he wrapped his left arm over her neck and whispered, "The best part of being a man of science is—" A familiar husky voice. Both of her hands gripped on his forearms to prevent him from choking her. "—I developed my own immunogen for all types of poison or sedatives."

She kept quiet, thinking of a way out of this.

"It's a shame I didn't get to see what's underneath all this." His free hand touched her stomach and sliding down below.

She jumped pushing her legs towards the sink and propelled them back. His choke loosened and she managed to escape running towards the bedroom putting a space between them. Stormborn was on her fighting stance.

Snow laughed and came out of the bathroom with a black fabric in his hands. He had ripped half a portion of her skirt that showed her hip and leg.

"Much, much better." His white teeth glowed in darkness. "Who are you working for, my love?"

"No one." She sprang a kick but he was able to grab hold of it and punched her on the stomach.  _Ow!_

22 minutes.

"Your brother would never betray me." Jon grabbed her closer and gripped her thigh harder this time. "Remember this, sweetheart?"

Recovered from his blow, she knocked his head with her own and kicked him back. She lunged herself toward him and punched his face. It hadn't affected him.

He held her wrist before she could elbow him but she still managed to claw his right face that will surely leave a scar.

No matter what she did, it seemed to have enjoyed him.

He twisted her arm and she screamed in pain.

Before he could break it, she back flipped grabbing a vase and used the bed as a platform for her to climb on his shoulders. She smashed the vase on his head while he tried to knock her to the wall, pillars and doors. But she held on and continued hammer fisting his head as her legs choked him. Finally she fell after her head hit a marble statue that cracked at it's impact.

They were both limping, panting, bruised and bloody.

Faking unconscious, she felt a short shard of glass on her hand and when he kneeled to choke her, she stabbed him three times on the chest. Astonishingly, he shrugged it off and punched her face with his famous left hand that petrified a giant. "You're something else, Daenerys Targaryen."

She was woozy but suddenly heard a jet's engine nearby. He, too, seemed to notice and carried her towards the balcony. His men arrived and followed him there.

A black jet was hovering in the air.

He yelled but didn't care if they heard him through the noise. "Take her but you cannot take me." And with that, he kissed her forehead goodbye and dropped her over the balcony into the ocean. 

The waved crashed as if the gods were about to swallow her back. He walked away and never looked back.

**______________________**

Days after, he was spotted in Asshai'i but since then, Snow was never seen again.


	8. 6 | THE DRAGON'S DEAL

_________11/26/2016_________

Ygritte awoke from a light sleep. With eyes remained closed, her fingers trailed through the white sheets but no one was there. Her eyes opened as she raised her upper body supported by her elbows leaving the white blanket fall from her naked breasts.

Jon Stark sat naked in the black leather couch cleaning his old favorite gun, 'Ghost.'

"Come back here," she invited him.

Ignoring her invitation, he said, "We're leaving in awhile. Get dressed."

She stood up and walked towards him interrupting his fiddling with Ghost by sitting on his lap. "Where to?"

Jon finally met her eyes, "Dragonstone."

Ygritte was perplexed. She hasn't been to Dragonstone before. Her accounts were mainly in Essos. "And you're taking me?"

"You have to meet your future accounts. The Dragon Mob is the largest gang in Westeros."

Placing her arms on his shoulders, she asked, "Are you saying I'm handling Westeros soon?"

"Yes. And Essos." He placed his gun on the gueridon and put his hands on her hips. "After meeting the Dragon, you head to Tumbleton and offer Podric Payne a chance to expand to Essos in one condition, of course."

Ygritte couldn't help but show her happiness. This meant he trusted her and it was so close to the idea of him loving her that her heart warmed.

**______________________**

The silver-haired man smiled and propped his legs on his desk as he fingered the newly-designed lethal weapon that could obliterate people into thin air by a laser-like bullet propelled by its trigger. "It's surprisingly lightweight."

"It's body is made from carbon fiber." Jon Snow walked around the Dragon's office and eyed the Targaryen family portraits on the wall. "The shooter can move faster and accurately aim on target."

"Name your price, Snow." Viserys cockily and playfully aimed it towards Jon.

"Your sister." He casually said without hesitance.

Ygritte turned to him, eyes widened with vexation.  _The girl who gave him those scars?_

"Daenerys?" Viserys was taken aback. "She is my current heir."

"I am well aware of that." Jon never left his stare at the portrait of the silver-haired goddess.

"Is this like the old days, an alliance fortified by my sister's hand in marriage?" Viserys laughed at his own amusement.

"What?" Ygritte shrieked, displeasure dominating her expression. "Why?"

"So the wildling does speak?" Viserys mumbled.

"Jon, you're selling our millions worth of gold coins for a Targaryen?" She ignored Viserys and turned to Jon.

Viserys boiled in anger. He stood up and pointed the rifle at her. "I'll have you know that a Targaryen is worth more than a billion of you, you worthless shit." Trying to calm himself down, he warned the redhead's boss, "Teach your wildling some respect, Snow or I'll have her burned alive right now."

"Wait for me outside, Red." He spoke calmly to Ygritte who was still in utmost objection and confusion.

When she made her way out of the double doors, Snow marched forward and sat across Viserys's desk where Ygritte had been.

"You think I'm handing Daenerys over for a gun?" He smirked.

"Not one gun." Jon crossed his leg and yawned. "A hundred of it — enough to obliterate your enemies."

"Even the Tyrells? How do I know you're not selling the same thing to Olenna." Viserys stood from his chair and walked towards the window that overlooks Blackwater Bay.

"If I have given them the same thing, this is your chance to even with them than losing to my creations." Talking to Viserys was a bore to him. The new Dragon was a pretentious simpleton. When it was his father, Aerys, he need not explain. "But truthfully, I haven't sold it anyone else."

"Do you take me as a fool, Snow? I know that." His dragon temper almost rising again but managed to control it.   
"It's good to hear I am the first, if not the only one who would use this. A thousand would do."

"A hundred." The white wolf kept his offer.

"Five hundred." Viserys lowered.

"A hundred." Jon almost lost his patience. "Last call."

"You must really like my sister or hate her for that matter. She's a beautiful prize," He grinned wide. "What do you plan on using her?"

"Various." He unspecified. Viserys didn't need to know, he only cared about himself and his Dragon Mob.

"She hasn't returned in two years. You can't find her if she doesn't want to be found." Viserys finally voiced his worry that the deal might not proceed with his sister's absence.

"I have a plan." Jon closed his eyes waiting for it to be over.

"And if you won't find her still?" He had to make sure.

"The hundred is still yours." Telling him what he wanted to hear.

"Deal!" Viserys almost jumped, pleased to think Jon Snow just gave him all for free.

________11/30/2016________

In the black of night, Stormborn watched the wildling and her bodyguards pacing to a junkyard near Bitterbridge in the middle of the night.

 _She still suspects I'm following her,_ she thought as she led her to nowhere.  _She needs more time._

" _Daenerys,"_ a familiar voice spoke through her earpiece.

"Missandei?" She whispered, surprised to hear her. "Where's the commander?"

" _The commander doesn't want you_ _to_ _know this until you've completed your mission and I don't have much time,"_ she muttered more to herself, worried.

"What is it?" Curious, her was chest pumping out of control. Something was wrong. She could feel it.

It took seconds before she delivered her news, " _your brother's dead."_

**______________________**


	9. 7 | THE BLACK PARADE

__  
  
______12/02/2016______

The Black Parade as they called it when a Dragon dies. Hundreds and thousands gather in black to watch the fire burn out from the mouth of a Dragon set in an ostentatious coffin.

Aerys Targaryen (1937-2010)  
Rhaegar Targaryen (1982-2010)  
Viserys Targaryen (1992-2016)

All have perished but the Dragon's daughter — Daenerys Targaryen is the only Targaryen left in the world.  _When I die, our bloodline disappears. And a day will come that my house will be forgotten._

Suddenly, all his father had worked for mattered to her. How hundreds of thousands depended on him to lead the mob to its glory.  How he established a foundation to surpass the law.

What is left of the Dragon Mob is now crumbling to pieces without any governing body to hold it together.

Viserys has died and if she expresses her disinterest in ruling, soon the people of the Dragon would riot for their chance to rule the notorious mob. Wars will spread and soon chaos will eat them up with civilian casualties involved.  _But there will be no Dragon Mob without a Dragon._

And then she remembered her beloved brother, of how he fought for what's right. Rhaegar joined the Order of the Seven to end the Dragon Mob even if it killed his father by the hands of tactical agent, Jaime Lannister. But not long, Rhaegar too was murdered by his father's devotee, Robert Baratheon.

There were no words to explain how to resolve her conflicting thoughts on what to do.

She loved her father amidst his faults. Aerys was both a kind father and a ruthless Dragon. He had concealed her from what he truly is until Dany had come of age and understood what the Dragon stood for.

She loved her brother the most. Rhaegar has given her the strength to fight for her morality. He had protected her from all the effects of their father's doing, trained her so she could protect herself even after he was long gone.

But they were all dead now, along with her dimwit brother who she admits to be grateful for. She wouldn't have been free if it wasn't for Viserys.

All that mattered now were the consequences of her plans, the burden of succession and  _revenge_.

She had abandoned her mission and undermined the orders of the commander only to find out who caused his brother's death. It was her target himself — Jon Stark.  _That son of a bitch._

He had no other motive to murder her brother but it may be because of her. But that was two years ago.

Still, for whatever reason, it is incomprehensible to kill his biggest buyer. The Dragon Mob is the largest and the most established crime syndicate in Westeros.

And unfortunately, she has now lost her tail on the wilding — the only key that leads her to him.

And yet she had more reason to find him, more determined to go against the protocol and kill him.

The Dragon Mob remained silently seated as Daenerys showed up in a long black dress and a black veil with her hair neatly tucked to a bun. Heads turned as the expressionless beauty walked in the aisle of the famously reconstructed Sept of Baelor towards the dreadfully embellished coffin resting in the tribune of the building. Thousands of red roses surrounded him.  _Just the way my stupid brother liked it._

Almost at the altar, familiar faces seated on the front row nodded at her in respect and sympathy. And in response, she acknowledged them.

Reaching the tribune, she came to see her only remaining flesh and blood, deceased. He handsomely lay softly on red silk in his black custom-made suit. His face was peaceful, pale and lifeless.

As tradition, Dany removed her veil and leaned in to kiss her brother's lips. Halfway there, she noticed a soft brush of air touched her cheek and just when her lips were centimeters away, the pale corpse suddenly smirked and laughed.

It was a set up. Dany backed up and ready to bolt but when she turned, every man and woman stood up and pointed their guns at her. Marksmen with rifles on the mezzanine were aiming at her, too.

"Welcome home my sweet, baby sister." Viserys sat up from the coffin behind her, his wide grin transitioned to a chuckle when he saw her face distraught.

"What is this?" She eyed him in wrath.

"Your homecoming party, of course." He propped up and put his hands on her shoulders facing the people in black. "My people, put your gun down. This is your princess."

"I am not your princess." She seethed through her clenched jaw.

Ignoring her, Viserys whispered, "now, tell me, dear sister, have you grieved for me deeply?"

"The only person who's grieving is yourself after I beat you to death!" She was about to strangle him when two of his bodyguards hindered her wringing arms useless.

A slight fear jolted him back and he laughed his melodious laughter. "I'm afraid you can't."

"Oh, I will." Dany tried to wring herself out again but with no success, she finally asked, "now why have you summoned me?"

"Because I've missed you." Faking sincerity, he clasped her face with his hand.

"Bullshit!" She attempted to spit on his face. All her worries for nothing, she was confused on what to feel —relief or bloodthirsty. "And a grand funeral is necessary?"

"No, not really — but it adds a little  _oomph_ , don't you think? I just wanted to see the look on your face." He picked a petal from one of the roses that covered the altar. Sighing, he teasingly confessed, "it's been really difficult getting you home that it made me wonder if you still cared about me...and you know I love a spectacle."

"Let me go, Viserys." She pleaded with a vicious snare. Dany had nothing else to say.

Looking out over her head at the entrance with anticipating violet eyes, he said, "Not yet, sweet sister."

A sound of giant blades in the air caught her attention. A black helicopter was landing outside the Great Sept.

Her demeanor went back to anger when she realized there was more to this than just bringing her home. "Where are you taking me?" Daenerys saw no clues on the flying vehicle to where it is going.

Viserys ignored her and ordered his guards, "take her to the chopper."

She wrung and fought to no avail. Her bun loosened and freed her silver hair. They  held her arms with no difficulty. "I swear on our father's grave, I will kill you!"

"Goodbye, sweet sister!" He cupped her face and kissed her lips. Stealthily, she pushed the panic button in her ruby ring and attempted to kick Viserys almost hitting him but he swiftly moved in time. Her hair and dress flew violently as they neared to the propellers.

"Viserys!" Dany, being dragged to the chopper, cursed his name just as he closed the gigantic wooden doors.

He smirked and clapped his hand once he heard the helicopter flying away with his sibling. Then, he turned to his people. "Now, where were we?"

**______________________**

"We need to get her back. She needs our help!" Robb slammed his palms on conference table. They were slacking.  _We're losing her._

"Sit down, Robb. We will help her if proven in danger but we must gather up intel before striking. This could be a false alarm —she has abandoned her mission after all. Or worse —a trap that will endanger us all." Tyrion spoke with cautious plans.

"Or maybe it's just a Dragon thing." Jaime smirked in the farthest seat.

"What does that suppose to mean?" What Robb heard boiled his temper and his tone contemptuous. He leaned on the table facing Jaime.

"That they're pure nuts. She's probably a rogue. " Jaime Lannister sneered.

"What is this buffoon doing here?" Robb let out an angry huff and turned to Tyrion.

"Watch your mouth Stark. I am your superior." The top agent of the Seven uttered on his feet with a wordless threat.

"Not outside the Order of the Seven, you're not." Robb returned the threat with vicious eyes.

"Silence!" Tyrion had enough.   
"I have not called you two so I can babysit the both of you."

They still gave deadly stares at each other but finally sat down when Tyrion continued, "now the last location we had from her tracking device is across the Narrow Sea. They were moving too fast so there is no way they were stopping nearby."

"They're heading East? That's odd. The Dragon Mob is at their weakest in Essos." Perplexed, Robb blankly stared at the distance.

"Then she's with someone else." Jaime suggested. "Someone who moves from Westeros to Essos easily undetected."

"In speculation, the alleged killer of her brother?" Tyrion turned his eyes to Robb.

"Jon." He whispered to himself, hands clenched.

**______________________**


	10. 8 | ABDUCTION

________12/02/2016________

"Viserys!" Dany, being dragged to the chopper, cursed her brother's name as he closed the gigantic wooden doors of the Great Sept of Baelor.  _What is happening?_

The two guards pulled her arms behind her and handcuffed her wrists too tight for her own liking. Dany hissed as the metal scathed her skin.

She predicted what came next as they gripped her jaw open to forcefully jam a piece of cloth in her mouth and plastered duct tape on it to keep it shut.

Before they could fasten her legs together, Dany felt their grips loosen and saw her chance of escaping when one of her brother's henchman let go of her arm and went inside the chopper.

She stepped on the other henchman with her left foot and kicked him with her right straight to his face and ran as fast as she could before the man reached the ground.

But one surprised her — a jolt of electric shock paralyzed her body immediately that her consciousness was slowly dwindling away. Staring at the clear blue sky, a fiery figure clouded her sight and it smirked at her.

"This fookin' thing always does the trick for stubborn princesses," the Wildling shook her taser in front of Daenerys.

Dany's forehead creased as questions rushed to her thoughts instantly but her mind was now floating away, losing consciousness.

**______________________**

_There is only one rational motive of why Viserys has captured me. I am the only one capable to take the mob from him. But why has he let Jon Snow's wildling finish the dirty deed? Nonetheless, I must proceed with my mission._ But Dany knew it is impossible to do with her being apprehended and in no contact with the Order of the Seven. She needed to escape.  _But how?_

"Wake up princess." A thick raspy accent followed by a splash of water distracted her from her train of thought. Her body started quivering as it registered the sudden drop of temperature that was intensified by her dampness.

Dany shifted herself on the floor of her jail cell — limbs bound, hair disheveled, dress ripped, taser wounds on her back inflamed caused by saltwater splattered on her.  _Salt water. Low temperature. Am I on a boat in the middle of the Shivering Sea?_

"Good girl," Ygritte in her leather jacket, high waist skinny jeans and boots greeted her prisoner with a pail in hand.

Her boots click and clack on the metal flooring once she entered the cell complacently leaving the cage door open.

Daenerys shifted to a kneeling position in an instance with violet eyes piercing through her silver hair covering half of her face.

The wilding slowly peeled the duct tape off making her prisoner growl in infliction. Daenerys menacingly spat the damp cloth on Ygritte's boots.

"Bitch." She raised her hand and slapped Dany with the back of her palm. "These are my favorite pair."

A stinging sensation fell on her bottom lip. A cut manifested from the diamond ring on Ygritte's finger. It glistened through the gloom. It reminded her of her own.  _My ruby ring, where is it?_  
"Why am I here? What has my brother hired you for?"

"Hired me? That idiot Dragon King?" She chuckled and hunkered down to get a better look of the Dragon heiress. "No sweet thing. I give the orders around here and I expect you to abide them if you desire to live."

"And who gave you that power, wildling?" Her tone boasted with authority. "Do you know who I am?"

"Very well, I might say. Daenerys Targaryen — the Dragon's daughter who ran away from home," she snickered, "and has returned to die?"

"I have returned to take the Dragon mob." To make her vulnerability act plausible, she negotiated. "If you let me go, I will top my brother's reward tenfold!"

"Do not mistake me for your pompous brother who trembles for gold. There is no reward. You're the payment."

 _He sold me? Of course._ She finally understood.  _Jon Snow offered him weapons for my head._

Ygritte sighed. "And quit the defenseless rich girl act, Daenerys. I know who you are and what you're capable of."

Dany ceased her pointless Dragon façade and now in search of a way to distract her captor while she planned her escape. "So your master spoke about me?"

Beyond the metal bars, there's a flight of stairs by the wall going up. Dany couldn't see another way out or what is waiting for her up there. She eyed Ygritte's silencer pistol in the hopes that it's loaded with full ammo.

"He's not my master." The wildling's blue eyes implied her relationship with Jon Snow does not limit at that. She was a gangster's moll.

"Hmm...I see." Daenerys giggled. She saw window of opportunity. "Tell me, what else has Snow told you about about our encounter?"

"Everything."

"Everything? Every detail of it?" She glared provocatively. "Of how he tore my dress to pieces so he could..."

Her big blue eyes widened in disbelief and tried to conceal that she has taken the bait. Dany surreptitiously snapped her left thumb in place so her handcuff would slip right off while the wildling was stunned, unaware of it all.

"Oh, I guess not." She smirked amidst of the pain of her hand as she further pulled Ygritte's strings.

In a fit of rage, Ygritte punched her and wrenched her damp silver hair and looked upon her face. "Aren't you the whore with multiple identities who mercilessly took the lives of countless men? The same girl who betrayed her very own family in favor of the Order of the Seven?" Ygritte finally caught her in shock. "Do I speak falsely,  _Stormborn_  or shall I continue?"

Dany could not grasp what she just heard but remained still.

"Oh, I guess not." She mocked. "You see, as soon as I saw you that night in Tumbleton, I knew who you're working for. And when we're finished with the famous daughter of the Dragon, we will never stop killing the likes of you." Yanking her hand off, she stood up about to leave.

"If you value my honesty, I truly think you'll be dead before you get to the next one." She laughed at Ygritte's courage. Her sneaky fingers found a way to untie rope that bound her ankles together. "You wouldn't dare blabber about all those shit if I was unbound, would you? I reckon running away from the likes of me is what you're most good at."

Her red hair burned in fury as she turned to Dany and closed the cage behind her — oblivious of the danger she locked herself into.

Dany still knelt to look bound as she waits for the moment most advantageous to her.

Grabbing her hair again, Ygritte pulled the silencer pistol out of its holder and pressed its cold barrel below her chin. "Why would I run from you, little cunt?"

"Because we both know I'm better than you." She spoke against the muzzle pressing up to her jaw.

"Not with guns." Ygritte harshly pushed her down as she let go of her, stood up and turned away laughing fingering the smooth texture of her handgun.

"You're right. But I don't need 'em to kill you." Dany stood behind her.

Turning back with the gun stretched towards her, Ygritte's smile faded as she was caught off guard by the unbound Dany with the handcuff still hanging from her right wrist. In a split second, she aimed at Dany's head but Dany was too quick to snatch it from the wildling's fingers. 

"Oops." The smell of fear reeked that got her bloodthirsty. She tossed the gun out to stairs and taunted Ygritte to fight her.

The wildling went straight to punch Dany who has shorter arms and height. Evading the punch, Dany moved closer and jammed her elbow to the freckled face and hammer-sideswiped using the metal band from the handcuff to dig her cheek deep.

Ygritte held the jail bars behind her to regain balance. Cuts on the bridge of her nose and her cheek oozed with blood. Her eyes filled with fear and anger.

Dany's opponent was petrified pinning herself on the bars. The dragon knew she needed to provoke her once more. "Is Jon waiting for me up there? Oh! Is that why I'm the payment? He promised me that night that he'd steal me away." She teased recalling his flowery words that she once believed for a moment until he almost killed her.

"Enough!" The redhead launched herself at her with an unexpected dagger in hand. Utilizing the metal band on her wrist, Dany parried and struck a frontal kick on the stomach that knocked her opponent's head on the metal bars leaving her unconscious.

Daenerys ripped her dress to customize a strap on her thighs to hold the dagger. In search for the key, she checked Ygritte's pockets and found it with a mobile phone. The device had an encryption unable for her to contact The Order but it could contain information about all the Essos syndicates that Missandei can crack. She stashed it in her bra and opened the door and locked it behind her.

Slowly, she went up the stairs with the silencer pistol in hand and found two men operating the vessel with sonar.  _This is a nuclear submarine. Nautilus. Where are the guards?_

"Send this vessel to Blackwater Bay or I'll shoot your friend." Daenerys spoke to the closest submariner and aimed her gun towards the man beside him.

"I do not control the destination from here. It is powered by a biometric system." He explained and Dany noticed the inflatable raft bag strapped to a console.

"Raise it to the surface. Now." She commanded, familiar of what the man's job entails.

"I cannot, the surface is impossible to pen—"

Dany shot the his friend on the shoulder and aimed for his head. "Do you want me to finish him—" reading his nameplate, "—Edd Tollett? Find a way."

The vessel started to rise and as it went closer to the top, it quaked and the lights flickered when it rammed itself onto something solid.

"Thank you, Edd." And headed to another flight of stairs with the bag strapped to her shoulders. She expected that the two men would sound the alarm when she left but they didn't.  _This is a first._

The interior of the room was a contrast from below. The furniture was white leather draped by white and light tan fur. By the bar stashed with luxurious drinks, a large screen showed a surveillance of the jail cell and the other rooms of the submarine. Ygritte was still unconscious.

She noticed a sweating liqueur glass of newly poured scotch on the coffee table and realized someone was with her.

"I'm not surprised to see you up here, love." A startling Jon Snow appeared from behind her and sat on the couch with his arm spread out comfortably.

He had subtly changed. His facial scars has suited him well. It gave his face an edge and Dany could not deny that he is more handsome with age. He was still wearing his usual all-black ensemble. "Red underestimated you."

"You sent her to kill me? You know for a fact that she's no match for me." Daenerys automatically pointed the gun towards Jon Snow. Suddenly, she was self conscious of her drastic appearance when he seditiously eyed her from head to toe.

"I didn't send her. She went on her own." A hint of irate in his dark eyes flickered but it was gone in a second as he cleared his throat. He was back to his brooding stare, "make sure that bullet hits me though — this is a pressurized vessel. I can't guarantee to hold still from your gun shots — instinct is all."

 _He's right. And I cannot take him with me without a bloody fight. I don't have the strength to defeat him now._ She was exhausted and in pain.  _I have to get out of here on my own._ Her eyes darted to the escape latch up above.

"I'm afraid you're not dressed for the condition outside, love but black suits you well. Truly."

Daenerys took a step back towards the stepladder where the escape latch was.

"Before you leave, there is something I need from you." He stood and stepped closer until his hard chest touched the tip of the gun's barrel. It was her chance to shoot him with a flesh wound but she had no control of the finger on the trigger. Her mind lingered to when her body was pressed to his that night in Storms End.

Jon reached his hand towards her as his dark eyes held her stunned gaze. Her cheeks blushed as his fingers neared her cleavage and managed to take the phone without touching her fair skin and return to his seat.

In her shock, she caught her breath, unmindful that she has held it since he appeared.

Stepping back, slowly up the ladder she opened the latch of the conning tower and peeked. The frigid weather petrified her body instantly. Her violet eyes widened as she welcomed the emotions of hopelessness for her survival and astonishment of the beauty in front of her.

The hard collision awhile ago was from a thick sheet of ice that surrounded as far as she could see with no water in sight for her inflatable raft. Everything was white up to the horizon where it meets the clear blue sky.  _I've never been so far North before. It's not such a bad sight to die here._

She closed the hatch in acceptance for her end but ready to fight what's coming for her. Cautious, she readied her gun and stepped down back to the white lounge. He was still on his seat already expecting her return.

She put her gun down and voiced out the questions that's been coursing out of her mind. "What do you want from me?"

"May I offer you a drink first?"

**______________________**


	11. 9 | THE HUNT

__

 

________11/29/2016________

"What if she doesn't show up?" Ygritte couldn't help but ask Jon who was fiddling on his laptop as he sat on the black leather loveseat with legs propped up.

"She will." He said with utmost certainty.

Trying to get his eyes off the screen, she sat down on the coffee table in attempt to meet his gaze. "Tell me Jon, why her?"

"It's none of your concern." To no avail, Jon never left his focus on his work for a new weapons system that's powered by gamma technology.

"It is. You asked me to facilitate the kidnapping." Losing patience, she shut the laptop in front of him. "Is this your plot for revenge?"

He finally met her icy blue eyes with his own, showing nothing but apathy. "She had done nothing worth avenging for."

"Then what are we going to do with her? Beat her to death until she divulges who she's working for?"

His expression subtly changed to displeasure. "You are not permitted to lay your hands on her."

"So why are we kidnapping Daenerys?" Ygritte finally let her curiosity out. "Do you fancy her? She is, after all, desired by many."

"I have no time for this. There are critical matters we should be discussing right now." He opened his laptop once again and continued fiddling with his design. "And judging by your prying, we'll do it when I return from Essos."

"You're shutting me out again? C'mon, talk to me, Jon." She kneeled on the floor closer to him, her hands rubbing his thigh. "I am more than just your bedtime companion."

"Not this time, Red." He crossed the leg she's been touching over to his other leg. Jon was not in the mood to address her womanly dilemmas. "I think it's best if you sleep in your room tonight."

"But I won't get to see you till I abduct that Dragon girl. That's three days without anything else better to do." She pleaded with her eyes hoping he will not reject her the second time. "And you haven't told me what you're business for going to Essos either. Remind me why I can't come with you again?"

"Because you won't be in time for the funeral to take Daenerys Targaryen," he reasoned, ignoring her plea. "Why don't you go to Podric Payne's celebration in Tumbleton tomorrow night? You helped him with the Essos trade. You should be the guest of honor."

"The Order of the Seven will be there," her nose crinkled as if allergic those she mentioned.

"Give them a good chase. You enjoy that." His lips curved menacingly, still not leaving the screen. "It's a good distraction in keeping their attention away from Essos, too."

"Fine." She stood up defeated but pushed herself to him even more by sitting on his thighs. "At least let me sleep here with you."

"I won't be sleeping tonight." Stretching his arms above his head, his muscles snapped. "This must be done before sunrise. I leave at dawn. Now go."

She paused for a moment just to see if he was not changing his mind. Jon ignored her til she closed the door behind her.

Picking up his phone from the coffee table, he called his trusty underboss. "Edd, gear up the nautilus. We head to Valyria in the next four hours."

"Right away, chief." He respectfully responded.

"I've told you countless times not to call me chief, Edd. We've known each other for years."

"So you tell me, Jon." Jon could picture dolorous Edd smile teasingly. "Will we take the guards?"

"It is not necessary." Jon thought Valyria is too risky to bring more people. There would be more casualties if so. "Grenn can come along."

"We're on a hunt for that relic again are we?" Edd reckoned.

"Yes." Jon was not surprised how Edd knew. He's been searching for it for two years now. "I finally traced its final possessor."

"And I'm guessing that final possessor turned into a stone man?" There were no other inhabitants left in Valyria apart from the grayscale-diseased men. "Dreadful. She better be worth it."

"She is." Jon laughed at Edd's distaste for such location. "Makes it more of an interesting challenge, does it?"

"If you say so,  _chief_." Edd teased.

________11/30/16________

"Ms. Ygritte! Thank you for coming. All of this wouldn't be possible without you." Podric Payne entered the room where she's hiding from the revelry.   
"I apologize for not thanking you onstage."

"I'm quite aware that our deal is within secrecy and it is necessary." Ygritte spoke after she drank her champagne.  
"Don't leave your guests waiting. I'm leaving in awhile."

He nodded and left the room.

" _There are three spies in the premises_." Tormund Giantsbane spoke against her earpiece. Ygritte could see him through the one-way mirror. He was on the mezzanine with a big smile on his face, now approaching this tall blonde woman.

Ygritte rolled her eyes.  _Wildlings can never be tamed._ She took her phone from her purse and scrolled to who the three agents were that Tormund mentioned. "Let's see. Hmm..." The first name that popped up was Syrio Forel, a spy-assassin of the Sealord of Braavos. "Boring," she yawned.

The party was getting a bit dull after the toast. But she can't blame it, being stuck in the backroom. Many have intentions of apprehending her for intel about the Nightswatch Enterprises that Jon Snow has established. It has been envied by many.

She scrolled again to find a familiar name — Greyworm. He was sent by the Great Cities of Slavers Bay to steal the weapons technology Jon has invented. "Typical."

Neither has  the Sealord of Braavos nor the Cities of Slavers Bay got close enough to infiltrate the Nightswatch Enterprises. Nobody else knows where it is. None have even caught Ygritte yet.

"Stormborn," she read the screen. "Here's what we've been waiting for — the Order of the Seven."

" _Quite a looker she is_." Tormund spoke through her earpiece.

Ygritte scrolled further to see the picture. A brown haired woman with angelic features and piercing violet eyes. "I know this face."  _Where have I seen her before?_

" _I'd remember if I'd seen her."_ Tormund snickered. " _Ready to bail?"_

"Uh-huh." She stood up and fixed the hems of her long blue dress. "Cause a commotion and I'll go out  in the open enough for her and the others to notice me."

Tormund went down the stairs and headed towards the tables near the stage — meters away from the room where Ygritte was. " _Come out in three, two, one."_ And he launched himself drunkenly to a waiter with a tray of drinks and the raucous began.

Ygritte came out immediately to start the chase. In an instant, she saw Greyworm and Syrio Forell heading towards her.

Two of her guards knocked them out from behind and she ran through the crowd.

On her way out, she saw the familiar angelic face in the flesh calmly descend down the stairs with her green silk gown and Ygritte instantly knew who she was. Her eyes widened in stupor as she realized it was the girl in the painting Jon stared at in the Dragon's study.  _Daenerys Targaryen._

She shook off her stunned body and jumped in to the sleek black car that was already waiting for her.

"What took you so long?" Tormund on the driver's seat bantered her but became serious when he saw her distraught face. "What's wrong?"

"Go!" Ygritte commanded and he rammed the gas pedal. The car skedaddled swiftly.

It took three rings for Jon to answer the call. "Jon, Daenerys is an agent of The Order of the Seven." Ygritte was in an inexplicable panic. "She's in pursuit of you. She's tailing me now. "

"How quaint but makes much more sense." Jon spoke calmly and it ridiculed Ygritte's anxiety. "I've suspected she's a spy from the warlords of the old Ghiscari Empire. They've been ravenous for my weapons-grade technology for years."

Long before the Braavos and Slavers Bay, the Old Ghis planted thousands of spies in Westeros to find Jon Snow and his facility but to no avail. He was the most wanted man in Westeros and Essos.

"That doesn't make it any less worse. We can't have her in our midst, Jon. It'll be too dangerous if she escapes us when we abduct her." She warned. "And neither would I escape from her tailing me."

"We proceed with the plan." He said with authority.

"But—"

"You will escape once the news of Viserys's fake death reaches her." He assured. "Just be patient, Red."

Before she could muster up her counter arguments, Jon hung up and left her to do what she was told. "Seven hells!"

"And you still think he listens to ya?" Tormund laughed. "That's why business and pleasure don't mix lass."

________12/01/16________

"Ready?" Jon couldn't help but smile as he lighted his cigarette. He was so close in completing his conquest in finding the relic. Standing on a boulder of the ruins of old Valyria, he holds a double barrel shotgun that rests its length on his shoulder. He wore his forest green jacket, denim jeans and combat boots. It was a rare sight of him with blackness only on his hair and dark irises.

"Boss, do we really need to leave the submarine on its own? I can keep watch of it." Grenn suggested, masking his fright.

"Grenn's a craven when it comes to infectious walking gravels," Edd mocked but admitted, "can't blame him. I'd rather stay there, too than be one of them."

"C'mon lads, they're just inane men degenerated to primitivism." Jon held his cigar and reloaded two bullets on his shotgun, cranked it up with one hand and puffed smoke from his mouth. "This will be an amusing exercise to test my newly designed weapons."

"No offense, boss but you're holding a big old shotgun." Grenn chuckled nervously.

"You will use the new krypton machine gun. Edd will handle the cricket pistol and the gamma blast," he equipped them with advanced artillery. "Meanwhile, I kick it up old school. I miss this thing."

"You and your guns." Edd japed as they started walking adjacently through the river bank. One by one, they saw as stonemen started appearing across the calm water, on a cliff and through the trees.

One was charging towards Jon. Grenn froze and Edd was oblivious on how to operate the cricket pistol. Jon pulled the trigger as the stoneman reached the perfect range for his shotgun. The monster's head bursted in front of them. "You can't beat the classics."

"Tell me about it." Edd agreed as he eyed the cricket pistol. "How do you use this anyway?"

"Here." Jon took the pistol and aimed at the stoneman across the river. Nothing came out as he pulled the trigger but the stoneman collapsed. "Silent and handy."

"Nice!" Edd grabbed it from him and shot three more. "Are you certain the relic is here, Jon?"

"Positive." Jon confirmed as he reloaded two more bullets to the barrel of his shotgun and fired at the closest stoneman. It was decapitated instantly.

"Fook me, they're too many." Edd noticed their numbers were increasing the more they killed as they went closer to the center of the island.

"Use this. Target when a horde is coming towards you." Jon assisted him in aiming the gamma blast. "Now, fire."

The whole horde exploded into thick rough slices of meat. "This is the kind of gun for me!"

"Just don't aim when they're in short range. Their limbs and guts will fall to your face if you do." Jon warned.

"Aaaahhh!!" Grenn felt like the beast spewing shots to everything he sees moving. He fell farther behind.

"Grenn, don't waste your ammo. It spits bullets ten times quicker than a regular machine gun so you'll run out of ammo ten times as fast. Stay close."

By the ruins of a great fortress surrounded by dragon statues, his watch beeped repeatedly. "Were close."

"About time! The hooligans are multiplying by the second." The beeping went haywire then as they entered deeper into the forest.

"I see it." His deep dark eyes focused on the relic. The ruby of its hilt shone in the late afternoon sun. Its blade was still sharp and smooth even with age.

"Oh shit." Edd forgot about the legendary sword and focused on the monstrous stoneman who was holding it. He was as tall as the Mountain. "Does that creep know how to use it?"

"Bring me my sword." Jon passed his shotgun to Grenn who's mouth was hanging wide open in astonishment.

"You mean gun, right?" Edd laughed anxiously.

"Where's the fun in that?" Jon asked losing patience. "Longclaw, now!"

Grenn handed him his sword. "C'mon chief, quit playing."

Pulling the blade from the scabbard, Jon ran towards the giant stone man, "cover me!"

The two followed him, killing every stone man who blocked his way.

Jon jumped towards the final possessor of the ancient sword but it parried. Longclaw was bigger and heavier but it wasn't a problem for Jon's swift movements. He easily stabbed it but it clutched his jacket and slammed him towards the wrecked wall. It almost touched the skin of his neck but he kicked him away just in time.

The monster let go of the relic sword and charged at Jon. Jon slashed its belly but it didn't affect him. Pacing back, Jon seized the legendary blade with his left hand. His opponent picked up a boulder and threw it at Jon but he evaded it with no difficulty. He charged towards the wall behind the monster that propelled him and thrusted the two swords through the stoneman's nape. The monster fell on his face and it separated from its body.

"Man, long are the days I've seen a swordsman fight like that." Edd laughed at his amazement.

"It would've been better if it was actually a  _swordfight_." Jon panted and crushed the cigar he just spat.

"Nah, you slew a monster." Edd disagreed. "Did it touch you?"

"Almost." He took off his jacket and threw it in the risk of contamination. "Do you have a bag?"

Grenn handed him a large duffel bag and Jon used his sword to put the stoneman's head inside.

Grenn was gagging, feeling disgusted. "May I ask why, chief?"

"Future study and references." Jon smirked. "Best be on our way to pick them up. We wait in the Narrow Sea."

"So this is it?" Edd was holding the relic sword and staring at its intricate design. "Do you think she'll like it?"

"Maybe."

It was the first time Edd saw Jon with uncertainty and worry. It made him smile at his friend who usually had well-kept emotions. "Nah, boss she will."

**______________________**


	12. 10 | THE WALL

________12/03/2016________

_If Jon took Dany, he wouldn't be in Essos. It was nothing but a diversion._ Robb was convinced that Jon remained in Westeros and specifically closest to his heart — the North.

Robb went alone with the belief that he will find them without the help and knowledge of the commander.

It was never Robb's intention to go against his half brother. He loves Jon and he would protect him in his own ways even if he was bound by the Order of the Seven.  _But this time, it's personal._

He loves Daenerys, too — long before they joined the Order of the Seven. Many times have they encountered in socials for the elite when they were young and many times have she turned him down for dubious and playful reasons. Dany saw him as a brother, a best friend and a colleague but he was bound to change that. It wasn't mainly her beauty that attracted him towards the Dragon princess. It was her strength and her heart.  _I can't lose her. She is the only constant thing left in my life. Everybody has left me but god, not her. Please not her, too._

On his sleek silver car, he didn't have the time to visit his ancestral home. Winterfell was the last place Jon would go. He sped up to 130 miles per hour farther north. He knew where to start his search. Nobody else knew Jon like he did.

Robb could almost see the wall of ice and steel in the distance. Decreasing the acceleration and speed as he drew nearer, the gates opened for the Lord of Winterfell.

The men of the Night's Watch gathered to have a glimpse of the new ruler of the North as he came out of his ride. He took his aviator sunglasses off and threw it on the dashboard. He was wearing his favorite brown leather jacket over his gray T-shirt and jeans.

"Lord Stark." A man in full black military uniform who's hair was white and face with a smug expression came forward to meet him. "You are not dressed for the weather."

"Ser Alliser Thorne." He shook the man's hand. "I came in such short notice."

"A Stark had never set foot in here after your father died." Thorne noted with resentment. He guided him to his office and poured him a glass of liquor.

"I have been very busy aiding thousands of Northern men, Ser. Winter is coming." Robb reasoned and sat on his table. A man like Alliser Thorne would never know what he has done for the people of Westeros.

"Ah, yes. And as winter comes, whatever's left of the Night's Watch will be receiving it firsthand." Filled of grudge and bitterness in his eyes, he glared Robb mockingly from head to toe.

"That is why I have come to bring you enough food and ale to warm your bellies and new radiators for the facilities." Robb was nothing but courteous. He understood how these men have suffered. "My men will arrive any minute now."

Alliser knew it was too good to be true. "Aye, but alas! This is not what you truly came here for."

Rob smiled apologetically. "I've come to search for my brother."

The old man nodded and appeared as if something had snapped in him. "If that son of a bitch you call a brother will show himself up here, I'd hang him me self. We don't know where he is. He has destroyed the Night's Watch and turned it to something else entirely. More than half of the men joined this so called  _Nightswatch Enterprises_ in mockery _—_ men of turncloak-bedding wildlings and deserters that should be hanged!"

"I am aware of my brother's crimes and I am putting an end to it." Robb spoke calmly and sipped from the glass.

Alliser snickered at him. "If you think you can, then you don't know your brother all too well, Lord Stark."

"And you do?" Robb almost lost his cool.  _You don't know who I am either._

"Nobody knows nothing anymore." He leaned back on his chair.

Robb disagreed.  _There's always someone who knows something._ "Do we have prisoners?"

"Yes. Old men who are probably dead by now, a Thenn, two turncloaks and a wildling boy. " He spoke with his thick Northern accent.

"And have you put them for questioning?" Robb met his beady gray eyes.

Alliser was offended that Robb Stark had to ask. It was their protocol to interrogate their captives. "Of course. All of them as stubborn as old iron."

"Put me in a cell."

"What?" He could not be certain as to what he said was real.

"You heard me." His cerulean blue eyes with no hint of doubt.

**______________________**

"And stay there, you piece of shit!" Ser Alliser Thorne scowled with words too genuine to be skeptical about. Robb thrusted himself towards the concrete wall of the prison cell as if he was thrown forcefully.

The old man shut the cold metal door behind him.

"You don't look like you're of the north." It took awhile before Robb's eyes could adjust to the darkness. The voice came from a little boy, looking six years of age. He meant Robb seemed to be 'from the south of the wall.' They were all considered southerners to wildlings. "Why'd they take you in for?"

"I planned to go beyond the wall." Robb felt sorry for the young lad with big innocent eyes. He couldn't tell its color from the lack of light. There were nothing but four walls of cold steel.

"That's funny." He chuckled showing his two front teeth missing. "Everybody here try to get in while you want out?"

"I've come to join my brother." He whispered.

"You're brother's a wildling?" His eyes widened adorably curious.

"No." It made Robb smile and watched him by the corner of his eyes. "But you must have heard of him."

"Who is it?" He asked with no hesitations.

"I can't tell ya. The crows might hang me if they knew who I am." Robb whispered again playfully.

"I promise not to tell." He hugged his knees and raised his right hand. "I swear it by the Old Gods."

"Alright." He scooted closer to the child. "I'm Robb Stark — Jon Snow's brother."

"Whoa. They say he's the best marksman there is." He shouted and Robb shushed him elfishly. The boy lowered his voice immediately. "You have to get out of here."

"I know but I don't know where I can find Jon." He whispered truthfully. "I've never been beyond the wall."

"I've seen him once in Hardhome." Happy and proud to help, he gladly told Robb. "Ships of steel and steam came to shore and he was there with his woman in the docks."

"When?"

"A fortnight ago." He counted. Robb noticed he was too bright for his age. "You should go there!"

"Thanks, kid." Ruffling his hair, the boy giggled. "What is your name?"

"Tomma," he said proudly.

"And where is your family?" Robb felt guilt that the boy had to be separated from his mother at such a young age.

"I have none." Tomma looked down to his worn out shoes. "The Gods took them from me."

"And you want to go south?" The guilt turned to desire of cheering the little lad up.

"I want to see what it's like when the sun touches ya and feel warm. I want to see them greens freely sway in the wind." He looked up and smiled in revery. "Is it true? Do they look green?"

"Greener than you can imagine." Rob ruffled Tomma's hair again.

  _________1998_________

Robb, age of six, woke up in the dark from the sound of someone sobbing. He propped up to see a black silhouette of a boy hugging his knees on the feather bed adjacent to Robb's.   
"Jon, are you crying?"

"I have to leave Robb." Jon spoke, his voice hoarse from sniffling. "Lady Stark doesn't want me here. In time father would see that I am not worthy to stay here."

Robb rose in anger and stood over Jon protectively. "What has mother done now?"

"It does not matter." He wiped his tears but didn't meet Robb's gaze. Jon was always ashamed of being caught crying — a sign of weakness for a little boy.

"Well, whatever she said is not true." Robb knew how his mother can be so cruel. At the age of six, he didn't understand where her hate came from but in truth he took it unjustly. "I am your brother, Jon. Don't leave me here."

"If I won't, you will. You'll be away with all your training for lordship." Jon glared at him.

"You'll train, too, father says." Robb crossed his arms.

"But that is the point! All of those trainings and parties would be for nothing. I am nothing!" His dark Stark eyes narrowed and chin jutted stubbornly.

"Don't be stupid." He held both of Jon's shoulders and shook it that his curly black hair covered his eyes. "It'll be awesome! We'll train with legendary warriors like Rhaegar Targaryen and meet pretty girls like Margaery Tyrell."

"Nobody would dare talk to a bastard boy who's mother is a whore!" Jon dispelled Robb's hands from his shoulders.

"You don't believe that!" Robb went back to bed and let his imagination work. "I bet your mother is a highborn who is as lovely as Cersei Lannister with skin as smooth as a Dornish woman."

Smiling, Jon was always amused by Robb's quirkiness and ideas of women. "Have you even seen a Dornish girl?"

"No but the butcher's boy says so." He laughed his contagious laughter and his brother joined him.

"I'm so glad you're my brother, Robb." Jon finally rested his head on his pillow and tucked himself in. "I don't think I'd last here without ya."

"Neither would I so don't leave me or I'd have to drag you back here." Robb threatened staring at the high ceiling.

"Ser Rodrik Casell would disagree that you're capable of dragging me back here." Jon proudly recalled when their master-at-arms had confirmed how he's stronger for his age.

"You're only months older than I am." Robb reasoned. "I'd be stronger than you are one day. "

"One day." Jon watched the stars out of the window beside his bed.  _One day, I'll be more than just a bastard boy._

**______________________**

When Ser Allister Thorne took Robb out of the cell, he escorted him towards his silver two-seat car.

"Bring your prisoners thick blankets, hot soup, bread and meat." He opened his car door and put his glasses on. "When the sun rises, take the boy to Mole's Town and find a farmer who can take him in for a job. In my orders."

"But he is a wildling." He reasoned as Robb Stark settled in and closed the door.

He lowered his window down. "And I am your Lord."

Robb sped up South to Winterfell to prepare for his frigid mission beyond the wall.

**______________________**


	13. 11 | THE LAND OF ALWAYS WINTER Part One

_______12/02/2016_______

"May I offer you a drink first?" He comfortably sat on the white leather couch with his ankle on his knee and warm dark eyes focused only on her.

"So you can poison me?" She returned by glowering at him and it humored Jon Snow.

The way she looked just then was adorable to Jon. Her fierceness did not fit her angelic and enchanting face. "Trust me, if I desire to kill you now, it wouldn't be through poison."

Her confident but now belittled stance almost lost its coordination when the engine started again. "Where are we? And where are you taking me?"

Sitting back, he stared at the blank white ceiling while his legs propped on the coffee table. "Due to our unanticipated stop, we're in the Frozen Shore." His left hand moved in the air as he pertained to her who caused the delay and right hand holding his glass of scotch. He glanced back at Dany as he continued to answer her queries. "But I'm taking you home to the Land of Always Winter."

"Why? What do you want from me?" Dany attempted to get an answer from him this time.

"It's not limited to a matter of want, love. It's simply because you are mine now." He closed his lids completely relaxed and unthreatened by her presence.

"No." She stepped closer feeling her knees weak and he opened his eyes — a gut aversion to oblivion. "I am a property to no one."

"But  _I_   _am_  no one and if you do something that displeases me, maybe we can plan your brother's proper funeral after." He put his glass of scotch on the table and stood up from his seat broodingly handsome.

"You can kill him now." Daenerys backed up, taking caution on his sudden movement. "I don't care."

"But you do. Not for him at least but for your father's legacy." Jon inched closer and Dany stood unmoving and speechless. There was truth to what he uttered.

His hand gently felt her fingers loosen under his touch as he clutched the silencer pistol away and stashed it in his topcoat. Her mind went blank by his proximity and distinct scent that appealed to her deeply.

"Take your damp dress off." He spoke softly.

Her eyes narrowed in distaste.

Jon chuckled when he saw a glimpse of her ferocity resurfaced as she clearly misunderstood him. He handed her an oversized pair of gray sweater and pants. "And slip into this."

Dany all but swooned at his smile. Trying to avoid his provocative eyes, she averted hers in search for a room but still maintaining her Dragon tone. "Do you have a room where I can—"

"And give you a chance to kill my men and escape?" His words were different from the way he glared at her — as if she couldn't pose a threat to anyone. He shook his head. "I don't think so, love."

"Fine. Unzip me." Dany about-faced and Jon, who was taken aback by her abruptness and confidence, did as he was told. She let her dress fall to her hips then pulled it down further that her buttocks briefly caressed his thighs. Her voluptuous figure stripped only to black underwear have affected Jon's control to fake an apathetic expression. He couldn't help but marvel.

Dany felt him drinking the sight of her in and admitted that she didn't entirely loathe every second of it. But when she finally turned and gazed up at Jon, he was in his usual brooding façade with eyes not leaving her own. Dany hid her disappointment with a smirk. Men would falter as they feast their eyes on the current image of her but Jon seemed to care less. Sarcastically, she asked, "enjoying the view?"

"Yes." He agreed casually without leaving her violet eyes but his hands were an exception.

Dany held her breath as his fingers gently trailed from the bottom of her brassiere down to her waist, her buttocks and pulled her closer as he raised her right thigh only to remove the dagger strapped to it.

He showed it to her and flicked it towards a painting. The dagger lodged itself to the forehead of a man's portrait.

Jon Snow could not only disarm all the mobsters in Westeros and Essos. He also had the natural influence of disarming Daenerys Targaryen.

"It looks better now." She exhaled when he tucked his hands in his pockets. Putting her giant sweater on, Jon motioned towards the bar removing his top coat and placing it on the countertop.

"Indubitably." He concurred absently as his mind debated to what cocktail a girl like Daenerys would like and decided to make a Sazerac. He rolled his black sleeves and began.

Dany sat and felt comfortable for the first time in the last 24 hours. She even enjoyed the way his hand moved so briskly with effortless precision on the glasswares and mixer. "You know your drinks." She complimented when he'd given her just the kind of drink she preferred. Taking a gulp, she still caught him staring at her so comely.  _Maybe this isn't so bad after all,_ she thought of her mission.  _I_   _could actually infiltrate the Nightswatch Enterprises with Jon Snow's own doing._

"You must be very thirsty." Jon's observation interrupted Dany's train of thought only to notice how she drank her bourbon cocktail all empty and Jon was already sitting at the other side of the loveseat.

She ignored his comment and placed the liqueur glass on the coffee table. "Jon Snow—"

"Jon," he corrected.

"Jon," she repeated, gazing at the veins slightly protruding on his lower arms, "to what does my abduction entail?"

"That you belong to me," he said coolly with no hesitations.

Involuntarily romanticizing what he uttered, Dany had to shake the paralysis from her lips and voice out the follow up question. "Apart from that, what have you done to them?"

"Them?" His eyes narrowed, dominated by confusion.

"Your abductees."

"You are the very first one and most probably the last." His hands clasped together on his knee and keenly observed her facial expressions from what he's about to say. "And just to correct the misunderstanding, this is no abduction, Daenerys. I'm not returning you for extraction of any kind of ransom. I  _stole_  you and I don't plan on giving you back."

She flushed heavily, unknowing the reason behind it. Speechless again and frozen as the white waste above them, her demeanor was mistakenly interpreted by Jon Snow as fear or dread.

"Now, the answer to your previous question is, you will simply live with me. There will be no harm upon you. And all your necessities will be provided for." His cold exterior was thinner than he thought. He was surprisingly worried of what she thinks about him that it pushed him to soothe her mistaken fear. "You will dine with me every night, maybe join me for breakfast. And if you prove to be a good lass, I'll take you with me in my regular trips."

"But why me?" Her forehead creased in confusion. She still hasn't found that piece of the puzzle to rationalize it all.

"Don't you remember?" Jon couldn't hide his frown. For two years he never buried his memory of her. "I thought I made it clear that night in Storm's End, love."

"You made it clear that you wanted to kill me." She had to deny that she remembered every word he said and that she lingered on the assumption of his actions that night.

"Kill you? No. I just wanted to see how you fight." Jon smiled at the memory confessed, "you were very seductive. Truly."

Hindering her lips for curving upright, she did her best not succumb to flattery. "You're crazy."

"So they tell me." He nodded and felt the submarine slow down. And as expected, Edd came from downstairs with a teasing smile on his face that Jon wordlessly commanded to hide.

"Boss, we've arrived." Edd managed to say.

"If you'll excuse me." Jon glinted at her and stood up heading downstairs putting his hand on Edd's shoulder, "Edd," signaling him to take over before disappearing in the gloom below.

"You want to take a look through the periscope?" Edd pulled a long ocular device that was attached to the ceiling and motioned for her to join him.

On her feet, she felt a pang of guilt. "I'm sorry about your friend earlier."

"It wasn't fatal. He's been through worse." He shook his head and curved his lips.

Daenerys stepped closer and peered through the goggles and held the handles on its sides. Everything was bright at first but her vision cleared and saw humongous pillars of ice stood on the deep cold waters as far as she could see. In the middle, there was a large opening to where the vessel passed through and farther beyond was a cave of ice — the bottom half of it submerged by water. She felt so little then at the frigid wonderment in front of her. "It's beautiful."

"Welcome to the Land of Always Winter, Miss Targaryen." Edd laughed at her astounded expression.

"How is this possible? The unforgiving temperature is unsuitable for the living. How did you develop this place?" Bewilderment came out of her mouth.

"Nothing is impossible with Jon, Miss." He scratched his receding hairline and laughed again just to avoid her questions he couldn't answer.

"Call me Dany. I'll be here for awhile, Edd." Her eyes dropped to the floor and bit her pink chapped lips.

"Well then, I'll be glad to escort you out Dany." Already, he had an influence on her. His tone lightened up the mood and her eyes twinkled subtly.

"Is Jon Snow coming?" Feebly curious, she asked as Edd fixed a thick white mink coat that was too long, it dragged on the way up to the escape hatch and on to the platform of the cave of ice and steel.

"Don't worry, you'll see him at dinner." He hid his smirk from her line of vision.

**______________________**

T O B E C O N T I N U E D...


	14. 12 | THE LAND OF ALWAYS WINTER Part Two

_______12/02/2016_______

"Don't worry, you'll see him at dinner." He hid his smirk from her line of vision.

Daenerys kept her eyesight and retention sharp as she absorbed all the important details the immense cave has to offer. It was used as a vast port zone for all aerial, aquatic and snow vehicles that the former men of the Night's Watch arrive in or deploy to travel around the world. All were disguised or unnamed to keep their deliveries of ammunition and their identities hidden.

The men never laid eyes on her nor even acknowledged her presence as Edd Tollet escorted her into a bridge corridor made out of glass that showed the blues of the ice as cracks of light get trapped within and deep dark waters flowed rapidly below.

A series of hallways, stairs and double doors then followed and she lost her sense of direction from numerous turns and stops.

One hallway was covered with lush crimson carpets under its black marble floors and white paneled walls intricately designed. Another was all carved dark wooden walls with complex angular patterns that stood on the gloomy forest green carpets which resembled a familiar room in Kings Landing. Everything else jumbled up in her mind that some key things only marked her memory such as various rare creatures preserved in glass tanks, a grand chandelier surrounded by angels on clouds painted on the the high ceiling and a lastly, a full glass wall against the freezing open water where all the living creatures swim which includes a pack of enormously beautiful orcas.

"Is this all real?" She asked, eyes full of wonder.

"A sweet sight isn't it?" Edd would be pleased to tell Jon how the tour went. Jon specifically instructed him to get her puzzled in the labyrinth first before taking her to her room.

"He sure had his spare of time for all this grandeur." She laughed harmoniously that it echoed throughout the black tunnel leading to a hallway with an ordinary but modern interior.

"Yeah, well, boss likes to replicate or collect the things he's seen around the world." Edd reasoned.

Her eyes widened with the innocence of a child, tiptoeing to be heard of what discovery she had to share.  "Correct me if I am wrong but I swear to the Old Gods and the New that that wooden room resembled the Red Keep's dance hall."

"I haven't been, miss. I was but a farmer's boy." Edd smiled sheepishly.  
"Have you lived there?"

"No," she giggled at his unknowingness to the aristocracy of Westeros. "I used to go there when I was young."

"All you prince and princesses love to dance too much, eh?" Attempting to sway his hips awkwardly, he comically laughed at himself.

Daenerys almost lost it — leaning on the wall for support. The laughter died down eventually and Dany contemplated on how this man ended up in the antagonist side of the story. "Edd, I don't mean to pry but why have you joined him?"

"Jon? He is my brother." They continued walking then. Edd's face genuinely lit as he spoke about Jon Snow. The love in his eyes was apparent. "And I won't turn my back on him. He's a good man."

"A good man?" She repeated incredulously. "Towards his men and his customers I presume but I am interested on why you say so."

His defensive pace paused to face her. "Best we continue this conversation for another time entirely."

It took a moment before Daenerys knew they have arrived.

"This is your room." He opened the white double doors for her and let her in. Edd walked around the wood paneled room with two large glass windows facing a lake surrounded by white alps. It was breathtaking that Dany didn't absorb when Edd continued the tour around her new accommodation. "Bed, closet, bathroom." He knew though that everything was basic for her so he stood by the doorsill ready to go. "I will return in an hour to escort you for supper, miss."

"It's Dany." She corrected and turned to her escort. "Does the sun never set in the Land of Always Winter?"

"The sun sets at 9 o'clock tonight but when winter does come, only darkness looms." He bowed his head slightly with a smile and left the room.

Dany was finally alone with her thoughts. Of all the things that went on, she didn't know where to start.

The warmth was all she sought for to think clearly. She's been cold for too long and all she needed was a steaming hot bath.

Every piece of clothing fell to the bathroom floor hastily. And when her muscles finally relaxed from the scalding shower, the thoughts came rushing in.

_Viserys is not dead. He traded me for weapons. The wildling is in love with Jon Snow. Jon Snow claims I am his. His men believes he is a good man. I am confused. The plot thickens as they say. But why? Why can't I make sense of it all? What have I missed?_

Her fingers started to prune from being under the shower for too long. Stepping out of it, she was convinced on only one thing to do.  _Infiltrate the Nightswatch Enterprises, hack their system and get out fast._

Wrapping her dripping wet hair with a plush white towel, she opened the closet door to find hundreds of designer labels and vintage couture pieces of clothing. They were all her size and length. She searched for the ugliest dress only to find that they were all beautiful and a bit racy — winter clothing was not an exception either.  _I'm not dressing up for anyone,_ she wrinkled her nose in protest.

The underwear was bearable. At least nobody could see it for what it is. She wondered who could have shopped for all this.

After minutes of searching, thankfully, she saw a rich blue boatneck and long-sleeved chiffon dress that bared her back with a thin strap of the same fabric on the waist to accentuate her figure and a free flowing hemline just above her knee.

She combed her hair sleek and straight behind her ear and put on her pair of pearl earrings she wore since the funeral.

It took only seconds before a knock on the door resounded. She opened the door to see Edd in his suit and tie and Dany felt underdressed consequently.

"You look splendid." Edd nodded approvingly as he stood on her doorstep. "You finally washed that dirt off ya face."

"Thank you." The consciousness seemed to fade. When she stepped out of her door, there were no other souls on the long hallway — only theirs. "I'm surprised no one is patrolling around me."

"Boss says there is no need."

"I could escape?"  _Or blow up the whole place._ She was amused of the idea. All the rooms Jon had built to ashes.

"And where could you escape to?" Edd laughed nervously. "It's a frozen wasteland out there."

"True."  _But I find ways._

"Now, c'mon," he signaled for her to start walking. "Chief's waiting."

_____________________

"What is the status?" Brooding and mentally coping with stress, Jon leaned on tall glass window as he clutched on his waist under his topcoat and the other rubbing his bearded jaw. He waited impatiently for Grenn's reply. It was almost sunset in the Land of Always Winter.

"I wish it was smooth as the tide in the Summer Isles, chief, but the upcoming winter is compromising our plans." Grenn frowned. Disappointing his boss due to uncontrollable factors kept him on edge and in doubt if he really had done the best he could.

"Synchronization will continue at midnight." Jon held Grenn's shoulder as he lowered his gaze to the floor — in deep thought.

"Jon," Edd just entered the dining room and caught Jon's attention but didn't hold it for long when his dark cloudy eyes saw a radiant Daenerys clinging to his underboss' arm. Her skin glowed through her blue dress that Jon forcefully tried to ignore as there were matters more important than him thinking of ripping that fabric right then and there.

Daenerys blushed uncontrollably in his deep brooding gaze.

He signaled them to take a seat and turned to give the following orders to Grenn. "Also, have the men ready the storehouse in the Riverlands. I expect it packed with the merchandise before I arrive in the premises."

"Right away, chief." Grenn nodded and Jon guided him towards the long and elaborate rectangular dining table. Edd sat in his usual place closest to the end of the table where Jon's seat was. Silent beside Edd, Dany was unmoving and staring blankly towards the view outside which was parallel to her new bedroom.

The sous chef came with a serving cart filled with a complete course meal. "Drinks, boss?" He asked as he laid the appetizers first.

"Summerwine, then Médoc '53 for the main course, Hobb," Jon requested.

The chef nodded as he served the caviar on the table and snapped his fingers at the barkeep by the counter.  "Oye! Summerwine and '53 later!"

"We're drinking fancy tonight!" Grenn cheered. "Sam would be jealous!"

"Boss, I have to leave in awhile. My wife is giving birth." Edd interrupted Grenn with a peculiar news.

"What are you talking about, Edd?" Jon's eyes narrowed and his smile teasing. "I have not known you have a woman, especially not a wife. You make me seem like an unheedingly oblivious friend."

"You've been very busy and I know you'd ask me to leave my post till she gives birth." Edd reasoned, scratching the back of his ear.

"Well, congratulations!" Jon stood and gave him a brotherly hug filled with pats and laughter. "I hope to see your wife and newborn babe soon."

"Thanks, Jon." He beckoned.

Dany couldn't help but admire Jon's comely smile.

"Congratulations, Edd!" Ygritte was at the doorsill and stepped closer to put a hand on his shoulder.

"Thank you, Red." He smiled.

But bursting her bubble was a familiar white blur behind Edd that flashed by Ygritte's eyes and it went furiously wide. "What is this bitch doing here?"

" _Daenerys_ will join us for dinner." Edd emphasized on her name.

"She should eat in her own cell!" Ygritte walked towards the other side of the table in between Grenn and Jon.

"Didn't I just left you in yours?" Dany smiled at her, violet eyes threatening like a serpent.

"Why, you little—" She almost crossed to the other side to attack but Jon stopped her with the sound of his voice.

"Red," he warned her. "Ignore the foolish woman or leave."

"Foolish, you say?" Dany averted her glare to Jon who returned the gaze but he kept silent and ill at ease.

"Jon, Dany recognized one of your room replicas. The dance hall." Edd softened the mood as smoothly as he could. Still the tension remained that he became desperate. "Eh, boss, have you shimmied there with pretty highborn girls?"

"I'm sure he did. He's a Stark." Dany remarked with vengeful tone.

"Son of Eddard! A great man. May his soul be with the Old Gods." Grenn aided Edd with the disquieting situation they were in. Ygritte grinded the fork on the wooden table still staring at Daenerys. But eventually they started devouring the appetizer.

Dany bit a cracker topped with caviar and spoke half chewing. "It's a curious thing, though, how your father died months after you we're sent to the Night's Watch."

"How is it a curious thing?" Ygritte spoke through her crooked teeth.

Dany smirked as she explained. "Well, it's all a matter of speculation. I mean, who fled after his death? That's right. Him." She glared at him now.

"You think I'm capable of patricide." Jon finally spoke. His deep Northern accent coming through. "My own father?"

"Yes." She replied.

"And why is that, love?" Jon stared darkly under his pitch black lashes.

"You're his deprived bastard son." Dany harshly reckoned.

"Watch your mouth, cunt!" The wilding yelled at Dany who was as calm as ever.

"It's alright, Red." Jon assured her and bobbed his head towards the Dragon heiress. "This comes from the Order of the Seven's puppet."

"What did you say?" Dany's eyes narrowed and hands gripped. They didn't even notice that the entrée was already served in front of them.

Grenn and Edd just kept eating to avoid more spectacle.

"They feed you what to say, do they? That's what you agents of the Seven do. Follow orders." He fleered.

"I choose to follow orders than hide like a coward. Between the two of us, who has freedom Jon Snow?" She debated and never touched the duck roasted with olives.

"You speak of freedom? You don't know what being free truly means, Daenerys." Jon sliced his meat with a proud smug on his face.

"Then please, educate me." Her tone challenging him.

"Freedom is chaotic." He simply said without meeting her eyes. "One shouldn't be yearning for it." It silenced Daenerys. She realized how complex and deep this famous Jon Snow was. She was right.  _He is more than what he seems to be._

"Thank you all for the lovely evening meal. I'll see you on the morrow." Jon broke the silence and stood. He bowed his head and went out of the dining room. Ygritte followed and Dany couldn't stay any longer either. She excused herself, congratulated Edd and went back to her room which was just through the hallway.

The sun is finally out of sight and northern lights replaced it in the sky. The hues of purple, pink and green swayed like cracks in the sky.  _It's beautiful here — day or night._

She decided to change immediately to the only sleepwear available in the same style that only came in white, black and earthy colors. She chose the black. It was a pair of thin strapped blouse and short trousers with fabric made out of luxurious silk that felt like second skin — so thin and light that she could barely feel it on her.

She jumped on the warm cozy bed. Her body excited for the long awaited rest but something flat and robust was underneath the blanket. Her eyes widened as she unsheathed the elongated box.

**______________________**

Her feet could fly if only she could. Her lungs were about to give out. Legs tired but still determined to search for him in this labyrinth of a place so vast, she was unsure of ever finding him.

He was standing outside a snowy porch with scotch on his hand and staring at the Northern lights.

"Is this what I think it is?" She panted, sword in hand and now shaking from the coldness. It didn't occur to her she was still on her sleepwear until now.

"Yes." Jon spoke as the cold smoke manifested from his breath. He faced her and his eyes widened to see her lack of clothing. Taking his black fur coat off, he placed it over her shoulders.

"Why?" She asked.  _Why is he doing all this for me?_

"Don't you want it?" He queried as he put distance between them.

"Yes but why?" She asked again. Dany needed to know. What makes her so special to be given a lost relic that belonged to her family for centuries.  _Why not Viserys? Is Edd truthful about him being a good man?_

"For the chaos that follows, Daenerys." He whispered, sipped from his liqueur glass and motioned to leave.

"Hey." Dany found courage in stopping him with a hand on his arm.

"What else do you wish to speak about?"

"This sword was lost for hundreds of years and—. The Targaryen House will be forever thankful." She stared at the sword that has partly written history of Westeros.

"Then you and your house are welcome." He said apathetically.

"I also wanted to say sorry but you called me a fool so I limit myself to a  _thank you_  instead." Her gaze mixed with embarrassment and fury.

"I called you  _foolish_  for your lack of good judgement. It is not wise to rub the wound of a warrior's—"

"—pride." She finished the familiar phrase. "Who told you that? It's what—"  _It's what Rhaegar used to tell me when I get too cocky in combat._

"I have to retire to my room." He motioned to leave again and stopped by her cold hands.

"Jon, please. One last thing," her eyes begging. "How have you come to find Dark Sister?"

"I sent my men to seek for it." He lied.

"Oh," she appeared a bit disappointed. "Still I am overwhelmed in gratitude." Daenerys put her arm around his waist and inclined her head towards his chest. The fur coat he gave fell from her shoulders from the sudden movement.

Jon had to register what just happened. It awarded him genuine happiness from pleasing her with the gift he planned to acquire for two years. The effort he invested was not proportionate to what he felt just then. He was elated for the first time in his life.

His hands began to wrap around her. Jon had expected for her to pull away but she didn't. Her arms tightened around him even more as her violet eyes met his dark warm stare.

Daenerys almost melted but grabbed hold of him over his shoulders. Their cheeks touched and she closed her eyes to the warm sensation that flooded over her.

Jon smelled the skin on her shoulder. How he craved for her for so long, it ached. She smelled of summerwine and roses. It was addicting that his uncontrollable hands wandered around her back and her waist. His nose travelled to her neck and collarbone.

It's as if the snow had melted and evaporated. It was so warm that Dany hungered for it even more. She felt herself shiver under his touch — not for the cold but for his warm fingers she felt purely on her skin rather than the thin fabric of her blouse. Her skin under his breath lusted it to every part of her body that she could almost let herself go.  _I shouldn't._

Dany abruptly pulled herself out from his arms and said, "Goodnight." Her flushed chest was heaving.

"Goodnight." Jon replied. He could see that her nipples betrayed her through the silk blouse. She wanted him, too. If only he could have her on all the nights of his lifetime.  _But not tonight._

They walked in separate paths and retired to their chambers.

_______12/03/2016_______

"Chief, Ygritte has fled. She took the jet." Jon woke up at the break of dawn as Grenn called on to his radio receiver.   
"What are your orders?"

"Let her go." He pushed the button as he spoke through the transmitter.

"But," Grenn attempted to reason but Jon cut him off with another press on the transmitter button.

"She'll come back." Jon believed. "Just activate the tracking device of the jet. We have much to do tonight and I don't want her to interfere if it comes to that."

"Yes boss." Grenn copied his orders.

**______________________**


	15. 13 | HARDHOME

_______12/03/2016_______

It was twilight when Robb Stark reached the ancient fortress of Winterfell. The gates automatically opened for his arrival.

The familiar anxiety hit him as he was reminded of who he was and how much weight it carried over his shoulders when the guards lined up to welcome him in a snappy salute.

"Welcome home Lord Stark," Maester Luwin stood by the doors of the ancient mansion to greet him. He has unchanged. The same wrinkles still creased over his forehead and the same solemn smile that Robb had gotten used to over the years spread across his thin lips.

"Maester Luwin," his embrace was brief and cordial. Robb didn't take his time for a chat and entered the robust household. "Please inform Lady Stark that I have summoned her in my office. And have Ser Rodrik meet me there in awhile."

The maester bowed his head and left him. Robb went straight to elegant corridor that led to his office.

Memories of his father washed over him as he entered the room. Years after, he still couldn't absolve that he was the Lord of Winterfell. It was all so sudden for him when Eddard Stark had perished.

He was so young— 20 years of age— when he was burdened with all the responsibilities of such a vast land. Long ago, it was an age enough to rule but Ned has not equipped him thoroughly. All he had was his formal education that did not entirely prepare him for the winter that was to come.

A creak resounded as the door swung open. Lady Stark stood by the doorsill with a bottle and a glass of wine on hand. It was too early but she already wore her nightgown under her long gray silk robe.

"Mother," Robb still smiled to see her no matter what she's allowed herself to turn into when Ned Stark died.

"Robb, I've missed you." Catelyn gave him a warm embrace with a stench of alcohol. His nose crinkled.

"As do I." He held her shoulders to take a closer look of his mother who was once the strongest and most respected lady he has known.

"You could have called me earlier. I would have prepared supper."

"And what have you planned to sup for tonight?" Robb asked as he eyed the bottle of wine she has been holding on to since he saw her. Catelyn lowered the bottle as she began to realize her son's disappointment. "It's fine. I won't be here for long."

"Why? What have you called me for?" She asked when she distanced herself to take a sip.

"I have to go beyond the wall." He sat on his desk and eyed his mother.

"Why? Can't the Night's Watch —or what's left of it— defend the wall on their own?" Her brows creased together.

"That is not the case entirely." He shook his head.

"What is this about then?" Her voice prying. Robb could almost see her mind turn to conclusions. "This is not about the disappearance of the Dragon girl, is it?"

"What about her?" Surprised, Robb almost thought it was the alcohol that helped her assume correctly.

"The word reached us that her brother traded her off — a family of atrocity!" Catelyn walked towards the chaise and sat with her legs propped up. "And you always had a soft spot for that girl."

"Jon may have took her," he admitted and lowered his eyes. His mother read him too easily.

"Oh son, who knows, she may have went with him willingly. Based on her parental history, it's no surprise she does not fall that far from the tree." She laughed drunkenly. It hurt Robb — by what she said and how she was acting.  _This is not the mother I knew._

"Enough!" He raised his voice as he stood on his feet and turned to the wall to face a painting of a direwolf. He needed to cool down.

"Robb, please," she reeled towards her son. "Don't go."

"I have to find them. And Jon needs to come home." Still staring at the painting, he felt his mother's demeanor change as she heard his name.

"That bastard is not worth it. This is not his home." She stumbled angrily back to the chaise. Her wine spilt on her robe but she couldn't care less. "He had brought peril and shame to this house."

"He is still my brother." He faced her then — all a mess. "If not for your hatred over father's mistake, maybe he wouldn't end up that way."

"You hold me responsible for the bastard's actions?" It's as if her red hair disheveled on its own when her temper rose.

"He has a name!" Robb slammed his fists to his desk. The computer, trinkets and paper weights rattled from the impact.

"I should have let him die when the Gods gave him a deadly fever!" The stains of her robe worsened.

"You are cruel." He narrowed his blue eyes in disgust.

"And you have your father's temper." With unshed tears blurring her vision, she laughed through the bitter sadness.   
"Robb, you are Lord of Winterfell, warden of the North. Your duty is limited to it. Winter is coming, my son."

"I did not come here for a sermon, mother. I am aware of my duties and Jon is within it. He is a Stark." He finally sat on his father's chair to regain his composure. Robb still felt that the seat did not belong to him. "I came here for assistance."

"And what would that be?

"No other soul must know that I have left Winterfell." He spoke eye to eye — a mirror of image of Catelyn.

"For how long will this hide and seek last?" She asked and heard another creak from the door. Ser Rodrik Cassel, the master-at-arms, appeared with his white whiskers showing in through the gloom.

"As long as it takes." Acknowledging his first combat trainer, he signaled the old man to close the door shut. "I leave tonight. Ser Rodrik, have our jet ready."

"As you command, Lord Stark." Ser Rodrik nodded gallantly.

**______________________**

"Activate stealth mode." Rob commanded as the jet slowly hovered farther from the landing pad of Winterfell's highest turret.

"Where do we go, my lord?"

"I need you to drop me at Storrold's Point; Hardhome. And return to Winterfell." Robb Stark caught the old man's face alter to an inquisitive expression but stopped him before any queries escaped his mouth. "No questions Ser."

Ser Rodrik nodded.

The silent and smooth ride was brief. They have arrived in Hardhome but a bit cautious in descending. There was a wilding camp down below which they didn't expect to be that massive.  This was Robb's first time to be miles beyond the wall, it almost frightened him what was waiting for him down there.

"They're too many. Best you drop me in the edge of the Haunted Forest." His index finger tapped on the map showed on the dashboard's screen.

"As you wish, my lord." They landed on a small clearing in the forest of pine and leafless trees. Robb opened the hind entryway  of the jet when he heard him say. "Bring him home."

Robb nodded, stepped out to the knee-high snow and watched the jet disappear in the night sky. The cold began to discomfort him instantly. It aggressively creeped in to his heated white camouflage jumpsuit but the suit adjusted its temperature in response.

Plodding footsteps were coming his way. Through the dark, he hid behind a spiky shrub while he smoothed out his plan of approach towards a mass of nomads.

"Look what we have here." A stout man with crooked yellow teeth emerged from behind. "Pip! Lockesly!"

Before he could finish the call, Robb attacked swiftly bringing the man down  to a strangle with his left elbow while his right held a lethal dagger to its neck.

The footsteps he heard earlier began to taper as they slowly surrounded him under the moonlight.

"A crow?" One asked.

"He ain't wearing black uniform." The other observed.

"Nah, he too good looking for a crow. Those ugly southron shits!" The gaunt old man cursed through his breath.

"Are you just going to stand there?" The stout man complained as the cold blade nipped by his throat. Robb was calm and he never moved a muscle as the body he apprehended tried to wring itself free.

"He gonna skin you alive if we move idiot." The white haired man with plump red cheeks bantered at his friend. And begged, "Let the man go. We leave you be red demon with wight's eyes."

"Or just kill that son of a bitch already. We don't like him anyway." The man with rabbit fur snorted and the men's rowdy laugh shook the forest.

"Fook you, Lockesly!" The stout man cussed.

Robb realized their numbers were increasing by the moment. He knew he will get caught and decided to maneuver the situation to his advantage.

"You can't escape us son. There's a dozen of us and one of you." Lockesly started to negotiate which was what Robb had been waiting for. "We can drink ale by the fire, tell good ol' stories and forget this ever happened if you'd like. So what's it gonna be?"

Robb raised his arms and stood slowly. The stout man ran towards Lockesly and gave him a friendly tackle. "What do we do with him?" He asked.

"What do you think, Madge? We were tasked to hunt so we bring back this delicious southron." Lockesly laughed as the men circled Robb who could still take down more than half of them before they can get their hands on him.

"Burn a man kissed by fire?" A dark-haired middle-aged man with black bear fur emerged out of the thicket of trees and let the moonlight shine on his intelligent features.

"Chief Mance," one said and they all backed away. Robb recognized him immediately. He was their so-called king beyond the wall.  _Mance Rayder._

"He's useful to us alive than dead. We need more luck of a thousand redheads for the coming winter." Mance Rayder treaded closer. "What's your name, boy?"

"His lips might be frozen shut." They snickered but Robb remained silent.

He wouldn't say a thing that would compromise his mission till he figured out the nature of their tribe. "Take this man to the campfire and give him some hot stew. Tie his shins together if you could so he won't go running anywhere. The crows might be around the perimeter."  _They're unexpectedly humane— at least their chief is. No need for bloodshed._

"I'll walk." Robb said putting his knife in its strap.

"So he does speak. Come, it's time for supper." The chief signaled to follow him and the men did so casually pacing with Robb as if it nothing ever happened.

The camp wholly occupied Hardhome. It was crowded with tents and mobile homes in a surprisingly new condition that they suspiciously could not have acquired on their own. But with all of that, they were simply a moving village.

Children ran freely and men drank ale and brought firewood while women sew patches of fur on their clothing and prepared for supper.  _This is what the wall was built for? To keep these people away?_ Perplexed, Robb rationalized how could all of this be a threat south of the wall and realized it was all a political ploy for racial discrimination.

They grew closer to the center of the village where the campfire was and sat on the logs surrounding it. Women handed them wooden bowls filled with thick meaty stew. Robb thanked them and ate quietly as the men sang their jolly old songs. The cracking firewood resounded with the cold winds howling through the music.

From behind, he heard a child's giggle joined by his father and Robb couldn't help but listen to their jovial conversation.

"Look at the stars, Thatch." The father commanded.

"Does it appear the same on the other side of the Wall, dad?" Thatch asked.  _What a peculiar question._

"Well, of course silly boy." A few giggles escaped and Robb could almost see the father ruffling the boy's hair.

"How do you know?" Thatch doubted.

"I just do."

"But why is it too cold here and too warm there?"

It rendered his father speechless for a moment. As did Robb. Thatch was a smart boy like Tomma.

"You are a curious thing, aren't you?" The father laughed, beaming with proudness over his son. "Why don't you ask that fat teacher of yours?"

"He encourages us to feed our curiosities." The kid said.

Robb was impressed and a bit reminiscent. The relative emotion got him remembering about the past. Ned Stark was exactly the kind of father to Robb as the wildling man was to his boy.

He was a father any child could ever ask for but being a child raised for lordship was a different story. Ned never much shared his wisdom to rule. He usually kept it to himself— with one exception. If Ned was with Robb in the training grounds or in the stables in the morning; he was with Jon in his office in the afternoon. The doors were constantly shut as they discussed something important — Robb reckoned. He could see the Winterfell afternoon sun set and still, Jon was in the lord's office till supper. Whatever they surreptitiously spoke of, Jon never said a word when he comes out of it.  _But he always seemed glum after._

"Look! A shooting star! Make a wish." The father pointed and Robb almost looked at the star, too, but he stopped himself before he gets caught eavesdropping. "What did you wish for?"

"I can't tell you but I would when we finally get to cross the Wall, pop."

"I think I know what you wished for. I wish it'd be true, too, my son."

"Jon Snow will set us free."

Robb almost dropped his stew of what he just heard.  _Jon will set them free?_

"You bet, kiddo." The father agreed. "Now go to your mother. It's time for supper."

Startled, Robb wasn't given ample time to react to the situation when Mance Rayder cleared a log to sit beside him.

"Didn't it taste as good as the stew of where you're from?" He eyed the bowl scarcely touched and Robb blinked from his daze. "What's your business here, boy?"

"I seek Jon Snow." He uttered without any hesitations this time. The wildlings' view of his bastard brother propelled him to hasten.

"You're at the last place he'd be in." Mance chuckled.

"But he was here a fortnight ago." He countered.  _How could this be the last place?_

"Aye." The chief nodded, hands on his knees. "But he doesn't set foot on a location twice in a year's quarter."

Hopeless, Robb stared blankly at the blazing fire. His chances of getting Dany back were getting slimmer and slimmer.

"What is your name son?" Mance asked.

"I think I know who that is!" A plump man finely dressed in black walked hastily towards them.

"It's beginning to irritate me how you know everything, Tarly." Mance commented.

"Sam!" Robb's mood lightened when he saw a familiar face.

"Robb!" He huffed and panted but squeezed Robb in a tight hug. "What are you doing here?"

"I ask the same thing." He smiled as his chances lit up once again.

"I teach the children here." Sam said proudly.

Little by little Robb comprehended what his brother was up to. He's giving the wildlings education and promised them freedom. The new tents and mobile houses that the wildlings reside in which are impossible to acquire beyond the wall were all marked finely on the sides with 'NIGHTSWATCH ENTERPRISES.' It all made sense now.  _Jon is giving them what they were deprived of. But why? What for? What could the wildlings do for him in return? Is this why he left the Night's Watch?_ "I need to see Jon. Take me with you when you return to him."

"I'm headed back to Oldtown to finish my degree. I won't see him for a long while." He reasoned. "Just let him go Robb."

"But he has Dany." He said stubbornly, blue eyes narrowed.

"Dany? You mean Daenerys Targaryen?" Sam blinked thrice in astonishment. A teasing smile on his lips that was not for Robb but for his bestfriend. "Wow, I have no idea but that man would be in big trouble if the Dragon finds out."

Based Samwell's innocent worry, Robb discovered there was nothing he could gain from him nor from the wildlings that would help him track his brother. From the looks of Sam's lengthy beard and weight loss, it had seemed he had been with this flock of wildlings for more than awhile. This was a dead end mission. All he learned and discovered about his brother now made his mission to apprehend him unreasonable.  _Was my mother right? Had Dany really went with him so easily? What is he up to? Why Jon? Why are you helping the wildlings? Why did father discreetly talk with you alone? Why had hundreds of crows supported you? Why do you make these weapons? Why are you always the smart one? —_ the cunning ghost, who covers tracks thoroughly.  _And why are you better than I am?_

"Robb," Sam interrupted his train of thought with a hand on his shoulder and an earnest smile coming through his untrimmed beard. "Just let him be. For whatever reason he has her, Jon knows what he's doing. I have faith on that guy."

**______________________**


	16. 14 | ATTEMPTS Part One

_______12/04/2016_______

From the comfort she felt between her soft cashmere blanket and oversized velvet bed, she awoke completely startled by it. In years of being away from home, she'd gotten used to a four-walled bedroom smaller than a service elevator and utterly forgot how luxury felt like. Where she lay felt too comfortable that it wasn't natural for her anymore.

Her senses came rushing back to what happened yesterday and the day before that and she shut her eyes tighter wishing it was all a dream —that none of it was real.

In her dismay, the sunlight forced her eyes to open so she hid under the fluffy blanket only to hate how fluffy it was.  _Okay, now I'm awake._

As she pulled the blanket out of her face, the clock on her bedside table showed the time: 10:34 AM.  _I slept that long? Commander would kill me if he finds out how slack I was. I should've snooped at dawn for intel._

Daenerys had to begin her sleuthing. The earlier she starts, the earlier she gets to go home. She jumped off her bed and removed her clothing as fast as she was able so she could go on with a quick shower. But on her way to the elaborate bathroom, her toes stumbled on something hard.  _Dark Sister._

"For the chaos that follows," she repeated what he had reasoned. Contemplating, she had not fully understood what it meant. He spoke about it earlier as an aftermath of freedom but she couldn't make any sense of it all. It's as if her energy evaporates into thin air when her mind wanders to Jon Snow.

She bathed in the tub instead, taking the sword in its new scabbard with her and making mental notes of its measurement. Staring at it, she still felt perplexed how he affected her so deeply and easily. The root cause of being drawn to him was entirely a mystery.

It surely isn't his comeliness and physicality.  _Well, maybe a little. And his touch,_ she reminisced.  _His cologne, his husky voice and the way he embraced me that his chest tightened against mine._ Giggling, she palmed her forehead in her idiocy.  _But he's too...cryptic and dangerous. May I remind you how you loathed yourself  for two years after you failed your 54th mission? He beat you down to death — the reasons why you shouldn't trust him—and now you're acting like a giddy teenage girl? Quit moping, Daenerys. You have a pending mission to accomplish._

She rose from the water and covered herself with a bathrobe too posh for drying a human body. In fact, Jon Snow is too extravagant for her taste. Her lips curved to learn a thing that repulsed her about him and hungered to find out for more.

The stringy and lacy underwear was surprisingly snug that she gradually appreciated its functionality rather than revolted by its obscenity.

Unfortunately, annoyance made its way back to her senses when she couldn't find anything that wasn't a skirt or a dress.  _Who does he think I am? Cersei Lannister?_

Be as it may, she chose the only black clothing on the rack giving a reluctant sigh. It was a sweetheart neckline dress with spaghetti straps that fit like a glove which ends below her knees.  _This is a joke. How can I move freely and undetected with this?_ Out towards the door, she caught her reflection.  _Yep, definitely obtrusive,_ when the roundness of her bosom was accentuated delicately so she let her long silver hair purposely flow over it.

Turning the knob as soundless as she could, her head jutted out to take a peek. As expected, no one was there in the long modern hallway but surveillance cameras must be hidden from her line of sight. Nevertheless, she risked it.  _Time to dig into Jon Snow's room,_ violet eyes darting through the hall where she saw him enter last night.

Her noiseless strides were deliberate but with difficulty due to her dress which has unforgivingly bound her knees together tighter as minutes passed by. Rhaegar's ninjutsu training did not equip her for this. She debated with herself in ripping her skirt right then and there until someone caught her attention.

"Lady Daenerys," Avery, the young barman, who stood by the dining table seemingly waiting for her, sported a juvenile grin as she passed by the dining room. "Your breakfast is ready."

 _Of course._ She closed her eyes and knitted her brows in naivety.  _How stealthy of you, Dany,_ a soft grunt escaped her lips. Her eyes opened and faced Avery with a faux courteous smile. "It's okay, I'm not hungry."

"But boss insists, miss." He stepped closer, arms swayingly welcomed Dany to Jon Snow's seat at the very end and pulled his chair for her.

"Thanks." She grimaced at the meal before her which consisted of a cheese soufflé, Eggs Benedict, a salad on the side, grapes and tea. "Where's everyone anyway?"

"Breakfast started at six o'clock, miss but boss thought you needed to sleep in so we didn't wake you." He stood by her side and poured the mint tea on a fancy teacup.

"Oh," she mentally kicked herself in the gut to have woke up so late but she had to take every stupid move into an advantage. Dany quickly rearranged her irritated features into one she has proven to be very good at — a sultry mask. Avery's blue eyes glinted after she insisted to — "Call me Dany."

He flushed crimson red before bowing. "If you'll excuse me—"

"Please, sit down. Keep me company. I'm sure your boss wouldn't mind, would he?" Her voice harmoniously requested with lips pouting subtly, enough for him to succumb.

"I guess not." He sat down beside her, his juvenile smile widened and his self-consciousness kept him on edge, moving unnecessarily every now and then.

"So where are they now?" Daenerys sliced the yolk as she glanced at him under her fluttering long lashes.

"In the lab," he swallowed the lump in his throat, sweat beading on his forehead and grinning as coolly as he could.

"Shouldn't you be there, too? You look like a smart man." Dany attacked seductively feeding his ego and herself eggs benedict.

"I'm still on training but I'm top of my class." He chuckled, combing his blonde hair back with his fingers and keeping a smug and proud curve of his lips.

"Wow. That's impressive! And I presume you've dealt with convoluted volatile matters." Her eyes widened to fake admiration and managing a provocative smirk.  _Gotcha!_

"Uh...yeah. We're dealing with gamma matter these past few weeks." His seductress could almost hear the gears whirring in his head as he tried to impress her. Who wouldn't want to impress a beautiful Dragon princess.

 _Jon Snow's incorporating gamma in his weapons._ "Really? You must be so brave—" She casually placed her hand on top of his and he blushed like a tomato. "—risking your life in the lab on a daily basis."

"Sort of. We study in the  _training_  lab." With the back of his free hand, he wiped the sweat beads that started to trickle down his brows. Avery was a very attractive young man and is quite adept in stealing girls' hearts but Daenerys Targaryen was no ordinary girl. "Boss makes sure it's a controlled environment, though so we can't play around. It really bores me. I think I could make a lot of weapons if he allows us. The possibilities are endless, you know?" He went on and on seeing her enthusiastic violet eyes glisten from the natural light outside. He couldn't resist to please her. "Would you want me to show you where the lab is? I mean the training lab beside it — where we train."

"You would?" Dany smiled of triumph, her gaze never left his as she sipped on her tea.  _This is easier than I thought._

"Yeah, I got access and everything." He took her smile as wonderment and admiration. "We could go later."

"Or we could go now?" Her hand tightened over his and the other swayed her hair back over her shoulder to reveal her cleavage.

The color of his cheeks reached to his neck and hands and Dany sparkled at her influence on him. It took a minute before he managed a word to escape his lips. "Uh, sure. There's this—uh—snowstorm coming later so I guess it's—pretty busy for them to notice us anyway."

"Why?" She stood abruptly and he almost jumped in his seat to assist her from her chair.

"They're working on something and the signal is a bit unstable and undetectable by our satellite during snowstorms." He explained, squinting to keep the coherence in his words steady.

"That's boss's room," he pointed when they walked on the hallway before they past Jon Snow's door.

_Thank you, Avery._

A minute later, they stopped to swipe his identification card by the double glass doors and it opened automatically when it confirmed his identity. She felt him glancing constantly at her in the corner of his blue eyes. It was aggravating and distantly familiar.

 _Robb_ , was the first thing that came out of her mind.  _It is possible to miss that sweet buffoon after all._

"Oh, shit. Oh, Seven Hells." Avery's cry to borderline insanity distracted her.

"What's wrong?" But Dany knew beforehand when she immediately saw Jon Snow through the glass. He was at his back looking unusually casual, wearing a fitted black sweater and jeans mutedly speaking to a group of young men.

"Boss isn't supposed to be here till next week. He came to check up on the morning class' project!" Avery grasped both of her shoulders away from the glass windows and he looked ten times tenser than awhile ago. "I'm fucked. We have to hide before—"

"You're just in time princess," Grenn laughed mischievously as he came out of the room that Jon Snow was in. He shook his head as if something was ludicrously entertaining and grabbed her wrist whilst pushing the anxious Avery away.

"They're expecting you?" Avery was in a clammy mess as he followed them inside. Dany on the other hand looked back at him clueless as he was.

"Take this," a husky northern accent told her. Jon Snow was already inches away from her and handing her a strange-looking assault rifle.

"Wait, what —" she wasn't able to say another word as he strapped it on her body. His hands were quick and with purpose that she barely felt it.

"Cock it," he instructed by her ear and assisted her fingers to crank the hammer back and to focus on a target she can't even see.

Her breath was unsteadily shaking without his knowledge as he lowered the lens of the gunsight to her eyes and she saw a red apple a mile away. Her mind finally registered that the place isn't just any empty elongated corridor but a firing range for rifles. His hot breath was on her shoulder, his scent enveloping and his left hand resting on her waist. The effect of his approximation was still as strong as last night. Dany held her breath but her heart pumped explosively instead.

"Aim," he whispered, flashing a tricky expression towards Avery.

Avery couldn't miss that look even for a split second. It wasn't a threatening look that he expected and neither was it a friendly one but he was scared shitless either way. There was a hint of shrewdness in his dark grey eyes and a suave smirk on his lips that intended as:  _this is how you do it, kid._  His boss held the stunned blushing Daenerys with a diplomatic calmness that Avery desired to master.

The young man's awe and intimidated status towards Jon Snow gave himself chills as another second passed.

"Fire."

Daenerys blinked as she pulled the trigger absently lost in her thoughts of the man behind her, and at the same time drawing back from the impact. Subsequently, she knew that she missed the fruit.

The "giddy teenager" bubble she was in popped as soon as he let go of her. She released an exasperated breath.

"Did my rifle model have a recoil?" Jon asked his men while he pointed at the skeleton of a complex gun displayed on sleek acrylic case.

The young men shook their heads. So did Avery who was gravely melting. Grenn  _tsk_ -ed disapprovingly teasing the students.

"Then lose the recoil. I want it gone. This was supposed to be a replica; not a degradation." Jon pinched the bridge of his nose, defeated and clearly regretting his harsh words but thankfully the men accepted it professionally. "And the aim was a bit off?" He handsomely smirked at Dany this time, japing her embarrassing undershoot earlier and continued to ridicule the Dragon. "Can we make it user-friendly this time?"

Her cringeworthy situation got her sneering back to Jon Snow. She cocked the hammer, aimed and pulled the trigger. On screen, they all saw the apple explode into a white mist.

Avery held the table to regain coordination. His leg weakened at the sight of a beautiful and angelic-looking girl hit the mark effortlessly when he could barely graze a watermelon.

The only man who found her tenacity unamusing was Grenn whom she shot with a flesh wound days ago. He grabbed the rifle from her straightaway.

"Guess not." Jon Snow chuckled at the adorable feisty girl resembling like a kitten who is convinced she was a tiger. Jon wanted to squeeze her. The black dress that hugged her body perfectly made him gulp but luckily, no one noticed. He pushed the thought away and pulled his attention back to his men. "What else?"

"It's ugly." Dany commented not implying on the replica but glaring at the gun model on the acrylic encasement.

Jon reluctantly nodded at her narrowing eyes and faced the men once again. "What's happening, boys? We losing ourselves here?"

"Sorry, boss." Wayan, the project leader apologized. It was apparent in his expression how mortified he was. "The men and I need more time."

"I have given you ample of time to lead them— three weeks and you present me this? I can do better in my sleep." Jon sat on the swivel chair, tired eyes closed in frustration. The purplish circles under his eyes had caught Dany's attention and deduced his sleeplessness.

A moment after, he breathed deeply in a shrug and blinked away his tiredness."Give me the next one."

The men flinched. Dany could feel the tension thickening the air in the room so dense, she swore she could slice it like butter. Intently, she observed the wolf's temper.

He sat up confused as his open hand awaited for something from the men. His lips curled in, pique sparked in his stormy eyes. "The next gun, where is it?"

"It isn't finished. The first one was too complex to replicate and customize the overlayer that we didn't have the time to start the other." Wayan hesitantly reasoned and his voiced tapered when Jon pursed his lips and averted his gaze to the snowstorm approaching outside.

His open hand gripped tightly and Dany saw his muscles contract, his veins protruded and his shoulders were broadly overstrung tighter than an archer's bow. "You're fucking kidding me."

The anticipation in Dany's eyes for Jon's explosion beamed but it died down in a flash after she heard a manly provocative sound.

He was chuckling incongruously and Dany was dumbfounded. The tension dispersed along with his scorching temper but a threat remained. "Avery, you and your classmates better not disappoint me tonight."

"Yes, sir!" He actually saluted nervously and the impish Grenn patted his back so to calm him down.

"I'm expecting to see improvements tomorrow." Jon lazily said as he covered his face with his hands.

"Yes sir." They hesitantly obliged.

Daenerys and her conquest for Jon's bad traits fished nothing. He was cooler than his coined last name,  _Snow_.

"Boss, there's a problem with the satellite transmitter—" Grenn whispered after a muffling whisper in his earpiece resounded.

"Seven h—." Jon fisted, punched the air and bit his fist.

Dany regarded it amusingly cute but terminated the thought away in an instant before it spreads like weed.

"Gentlemen." He tilted his head slightly to say his goodbyes. "Daenerys." She didn't miss the playful wink intended for her before he left.

Her cheeks reddened as her heart seemed like it was dipped in something hot, dense and sweet.  _Like melted chocolate._ In her head, she squirmed at her foolishness and reminded Stormborn to choke Dany tonight.

"Old Gods! I'm probably facing death tonight." She wasn't the only one as Avery whimpered in anxiety and the other men mockingly comforted him.

"Hey, aren't you coming?" Grenn came back, his head poking out of the doorsill. Everyone looked up but his eyes were on Dany.   
 **______________________**

T O   B E   C O N T I N U E D . . .


	17. 15 | ATTEMPTS Part Two

_______12/04/2016_______

"Hey, aren't you coming?" Grenn came back, his head poking out of the doorsill. Everyone looked up but his eyes were on Dany.

"Should I?" Dany's suspicious eyes narrowed. They knew her intentions for sure and would possibly punish her for manipulating Avery. How else could they have expected her coming than the surveillance catching her in action.

"C'mon princess." Grenn smirked lazily and disappeared from the door frame.

Dany surreptitiously slid Avery's access card in the back of her dress as if she was just casually stretching and followed Grenn's pace. She had snatched the card by the time Avery took her aside to hide from Jon Snow.

"The fun's about to start after the repair." Grenn excitedly told her when she was able to catch up with him.

"Fun?" Dany didn't actually think Jon Snow and  _fun_  could be in one room, let alone himself having fun.

The only activities she saw him amused was when he morbidly rammed the Mountain, when he beat the crap out of her and when he emotionally crucifies her with his presence. Dany swallowed and paled, wondering what  _fun_ could he have in store for her.  _Would this be my punishment?_

Dany thought of the times when she was young— if they've met before—but she had never actually seen him until two years ago. Unlike his brother who was always the life of the party back when they were teenagers, Jon Snow was a ghost in dances or socials that were supposed to be  _fun_. She and her past friends never crossed their paths with him even if Robb insisted his half brother was present among them.

_"He's here. We came here together." Robb Stark, at 13, swaggeringly placed his arms over Dany, 11, and Margaery, 13._

_"Would you believe that, Dany?" Margaery, pursing her lips charmingly, craned her neck towards Dany then back at Robb. "Do you even have a brother, Robb?"_

_"You accuse the future Lord of the North a liar?" He raised his brows and pouted playfully._

_"Yes." Both of the girls giggled._

_And that was the last time Daenerys had heard of Jon Snow until he rebelled against the Night's Watch years later and the rest was history._

"It's a bunch of stupid stuff you wouldn't know." Grenn slip her off of her flashback. "You're a girl— a princess at that."

"Call me  _princess_  one more time and I'll shoot you again." She blinked slowly as the putrid of irritation brought her brows together followed by a deathly glower at him. "This time it wouldn't be a pathetic flesh wound."

"Alright, alright. Jeez. Now I know why boss likes ya." He raised his arms in a mocking surrender. "You're feistier than Ygritte. Maybe that's why she ran away."

"She ran away?" Her anger diminished in an instant as curiosity again dominated her features.

They paused as his face went gravely pleading. "Do me a favor? Please forget I mentioned that?"

"Why? Is Jon Snow going to have a fit of rage?" She sarcastically exaggerated a fright expression and they started walking again.

"You caught that, huh?" Grenn smiled in a brief reverie of moments he's witnessed Jon Snow's struggle to control his explosive temper. "He hates his temper more than anything. But you gotta love the guy, though."

"By  _love_ , you mean fear?" Dany corrected him based on her perspective on how his people behaved in his presence.

"We respect him. There's a difference your beloved Order might not understand." He rolled his eyes impishly but hoping his words stung her and transitioned to a teasing expression. "Does he scare you?"

"Absolutely not. I loathe him." She blurted abruptly and she could see how he tested her ability to lie flawlessly. Dany held his gaze as confident as she can manage. At last, he averted his eyes to the open door meters away. She breathed in relief.

But to her discomfort, a provokingly teasing curve lingered on his lips and it tormented her still. "If you say so, pri—, Daenerys."

_______ _________

The snowstorm nudged slight quakes on the transmitter's enormous body that was affixed to the ground of the observatory where Jon Snow stood and it got him to determine where the problem was before Hunter could even finish his analysis of the situation.

"The transmitter dislodged up in its antenna boss and with the diabolical snowstorm overcast, it'll be months before we can recover." Hunter, the communications engineer dressed in a white lab gown and round glasses, explained the problem to a brooding Jon Snow who could not afford to delay his plans even further. "If Sam was here, we would've been able to wedge it back in minutes ago before the storm worsened."

"You forgot about me." He reminded Hunter. He was the one who taught Sam all that he could know about manipulating currents of electricity and satellite communication. In fact, he was the one who made the transmitter in the first place. No one else was capable  in repairing the torn up cables and transfiguration of the microcircuit in Westeros other than him and Samwell Tarly.

"But the storm—" Hunter was stopped midsentence.

"Has an eye." Jon held his engineer's shoulder and casted a deliberately wise expression. "I'll repair it upon the eye of the storm. Calculate the minutes it lasts by the wind's knots."

Hunter hastily ciphered the direction and speed of the storm in the computer. "Two minutes, boss. And the eye is coming four minutes from now."

"Bring down the crane!" His loud command jolted his men in action to operate the descending crane. Jon went up the elevator to meet the lifting machine halfway. And with a push of a button, the crane lifted him up to the mid part of the transmitter.

"Where's boss going?" Grenn and Dany appeared through the thick metal doors of the observatory, eyes on Jon above.

Hunter averted his gaze to the two and flitted a perplexed one towards Dany but shrugged it off. "He's going to repair the antenna of the transmitter when the eye of the storm reaches up top. It only lasts two minutes."

"What's the transmitter for?" She voiced her curiosity.

"None of your concern, princess." Grenn shot back and faced the engineer. "Why's boss doing all the work for you?" He jested at Hunter's incapability and ignored his scowling response. Cupping both sides of his mouth, he dubiously yelled above the quivering transmitter. "Are you sure about this, boss? In two minutes?"

"Are you doubting me now, Grenn?" His deep laughter echoed, nothing but shrewd confidence in his stance but Dany convinced herself that it was arrogance and denied her obvious fascination towards him.

"No way, the storm better watch out." Grenn laughed nervously but doubted that his boss heard him. Jon disappeared, ascending farther for the high domed ceiling.

There was something about Grenn's words that a tightening sensation coiled up in the pit of her stomach. She didn't know what it was until she heard the words coming out of her mouth. "But couldn't he just wait for the storm to pass?" Daenerys couldn't believe the worrying tone that slipped through her lips just then and consequently, she was in dire hope that Grenn was too naive to regard it as suspicious.

"Yeah, good question." Thankfully, Grenn was unmindful of her concern. "Why couldn't he wait, Hunter?"

"Because the storm will fully dislodge the transmitter to who knows where. We'll have to find it like a dilapidated needle in a freezing haystack or better yet assemble a new one that takes tedious months to finish—Grenn." He chuckled to realize that Grenn was sardonically nodding as if he was listening.

"Uh-huh, yep. That's why, princess." He stared at the ceiling again even if Jon Snow was not in sight.

Dany cast him a grim look for settling in a nickname she hated, before asking a question as apathetic as possible. "And what happens to him—if he couldn't fix it in two minutes?" Stormborn wanted to sew Dany's worrywart mouth shut just then.

"Metaphorically speaking, he'll be the  _dilapidated needle in the freezing haystack_." Hunter uttered casually like it was nothing serious. Grenn didn't even move any facial muscle as if they were used to Jon Snow being in the midst of danger but she was, however, ill at ease. "Where's Tollet?"

Dany almost groaned at his off-the-topic concern.  _Shouldn't he be doing something useful?_

"Edd's with his wife and their new bundle of joy." Grenn anticipated a reaction from Hunter and he wasn't disappointed.

"He's with his what and their what now?" Hunter's jaw slacked open in shock.

"You heard me."

"That fucker! He never said a thing."

"Tell me about it."

Dany rolled her eyes and focused on the thermal screen that showed the eye inching closer to the red dot she presumed to be the transmitter.  The tremor worsened as they neared the center of the storm. "Is it  _that_  easy to fix?"

"Huh? What?" Hunter turned to her, surprised that she was still talking to him. "Oh, if it was, I could've done it myself."

It's as if the blood was slowly sucked out of her system and Dany cursed under her breath for her ridiculous reaction.  _A dilapidated needle in a freezing haystack._ Her mind went in circles trying to rationalize that her worries for her captor's life are irrelevant.  _But he gave Dark Sister to me. To me. Not Viserys._ Then she suddenly felt like she owed him something.  _Owe him? He kidnapped you! He's a fucking criminal._

 _And I won't turn my back on him. He's a good man_. Edd Tollet's voice found its way to her subconscious and shook it out of her head.

"You okay, princess?" She heard Grenn beside her with an uninterested sigh.

"Just a headache." She mused for an alibi.

The adjacent screen flashed a surveillance footage of Jon Snow fixing some wires and Dany involuntarily stepped forward.

She had missed to see Grenn's knavishly curious glint in his eyes caused by her sharply varying moods.

When the ceiling's hatch snapped open and the violent winds of winter stirred atop, Jon's dark hair flew all over his face and his deep eyes narrowed along with his brows in an intense brooding expression. Through an effortful thrust, he shut the hatch quickly and swept his hair from his eyes. Facing the camera this time, he took the tiny microphone wire by his lips and averted his gaze somewhere they couldn't tell. "Time check, Hunter." They barely heard him through the clanking and pounding of the winds against the dome.

"Sixty seconds, boss." Hunter, already beside her and fiddling on the computers, spoke against a thin microphone that amplified his words through the speakers in the observatory. Jon nodded and stood by the hatch readying himself.

_60 seconds._

This was the most opportune moment that Stormborn could take advantage from, by internalizing every information she could come across on the screens in front of her but bound to temptation, her anticipating eyes lingered only to one.

_36 seconds._

"So when is he coming back?" Her unexplainable agitation was worsened by another one of Hunter's irrelevant questions about Edd Tollet.

"No idea, mate." Grenn sighed again, impatiently this time as the seconds ticked by.

_11 seconds._

Startlingly, the trembling paused followed by a calm deafening silence. Without the external noise, Daenerys could hear her heart pulsating quickly and her breath circulating unevenly when Jon Snow turned the bolt to open the hatch.

"The eye's finally here." He said clearly now climbing out to the dome's roof and taking cautious steps on the slippery surface. The screen flashed the surveillance on the antenna and Jon waved at it—at them, huffing through the cold temporary serenity.

"Your two minutes starts, boss." Hunter voice blared through the speakers.

_1 minute, 58 seconds._

"Is it too late to go back for my jacket?" He chuckled, shaking his head regrettably and grabbing his tools from his back pocket.

"What is the visual status of the antenna boss?" Hunter ignored his rhetorical question and asked a significant one.

"Really bad." They could see the sheer focus in his features — his lips pursed, his forehead furrowed and his eyes sharp with cunning intelligence.

The only moment Daenerys took her eyes off of him was to check how much time he had left but it only took a millisecond before going back to him again.

It's as if he knew she was staring that he looked back to the camera and spoke, "I'm expecting a boiling hot coffee when I get there."

"The Dragon Princess will brew it for you, boss." Grenn nudged her softly as he spoke through the microphone and she casted a disdainful threat, blood resurfacing on her cheeks.

"You're making me blush, Grenn." Jon replied with a faint smirk but it faded abruptly as his concentration altered his expression once again—a screwdriver on his mouth.

_1 minute, 18 seconds._

A loud sputter and a scrambling noise alarmed them when Jon disappeared from the camera's shaking angle.

"Boss!" Grenn screamed in panic, Hunter stood frozen and Dany almost bit her lip bloody.

"Fuck! There goes my favorite wrench." Jon climbed back up from his slip and they breathed in relief. He fastened the hook of his waist strap to the metal bars to keep him from falling.

"Finish it, boss. You have less than a minute." Grenn cleared his throat and wiped the imaginary sweat on his forehead.

_0 minutes 55 seconds._

The seconds flew like a ticking timebomb and the three of them tensed  immensely as the eye of the storm started to scoot its way southbound.

"How much time do I have left?" Jon asked as he felt the temperature beginning to dwindle and the gentle breeze escalating. "I'm almost finished."

"Fifteen seconds! Hurry up!" Grenn stepped behind, hands on his head, face wary.

A sound of a gigantic computer switching on resounded and the body of the machine glowed on its edges.

_5 seconds._

"The transmitter is fully functioning, boss! Get out of there!" Hunter commanded with a hint of desperation and accomplishment in his voice.

The violent winds heightened that would have carried him away if he wasn't strapped to the bars. His limbs struggled to keep him in place and unhook the straps but his brooding expression held composed.

"Fuck!" Grunting and pressing his lips together through the strong winds, he pulled himself up but the hooks won't budge. "Fu—"

The screen turned black.

_0 seconds._

"Boss, do you copy? Fook!" Grenn mashed the buttons obliviously unknowledgeable to what it was for and Hunter pushed him aside. Dread veiled both their faces. "Seven fookin' hells!"

Daenerys's violet eyes widened blankly. She couldn't manage to speak even if she wanted to. Her throat was dry and her hands clasped to her arms protectively. Is  _this the end of the mysterious Jon Snow?_ She couldn't — wouldn't— believe it. She refused to.  _A big fish like him can't just die so quickly._ She convinced herself in a wishful thinking.

There was silent hopeless pause from all of them.

"You sick twisted prick!" Grenn bawled and a rush of relief eased her frigidity.

She didn't need to look behind her. She just closed her eyes with a faint smile glimmering on her lips.

"Where's my coffee?" He laughed huskily and Grenn and Hunter went to give him brotherly hugs with loud pounding pats on the back and boiling hot coffee.

Daenerys turned and she was just in time to see his smile at mid-laughter before it disappeared. His straight white teeth shone in the gloom and the skin by the outer corner his eyes wrinkling in a charming manner. His disheveled hair and dark clothes were lightly flaked by snow, some even melted but he looked perfect just then.

"That's too bad. I swear I could picture you swirling to oblivion." An air of calm and faux boredom in her voice was supplemented by a tantalizing smirk.

"Sorry to disappoint you, love." Jon winked— for the second time of the day and turned his back towards the metal doors with a mug in hand but suddenly paused. "Suspend today's game for tomorrow, Grenn. I have a visitor." He shot back another knowing glance at Grenn and he nodded obligingly.

"Boo." A sad smile cast on his face when his boss disappeared from the door frame and he gestured for Dany to follow him. "C'mon princess, I'll take you to your room."

On their way back to the hallway of the laboratory, Dany grabbed Grenn's sleeve for support as she exhaled painfully.

It was momentary but enough for Daenerys and her heightened senses to register what she just saw—the man with Jon Snow entered a room too brightly lighted that the white cast almost faded his features but she recognized him before they disappeared behind the red door. She couldn't mistake it for anyone. He was curiously pale, almost without color, and his features were disturbingly grim. The tiny invisible hairs on her fair pink skin raised as she shivered in silence at the thought of his name— _Roose Bolton._

The man was number three of the Order's list of most dangerous men of Westeros but she believed it is outdated. Roose Bolton did not gain his popularity for killing his enemies—no, he didn't just kill them—that would be merciful. He flayed them alive.

_______12/05/2016_______

_2:18 A.M._

Daenerys's eyelids flew open, her violet eyes full of determination in the dark. She didn't bother to change her nightgown knowing it was the only clothing she can move freely on.

Swift and soundless, she opened the unlocked door of Jon Snow's room only to find his bed empty and in disarray. She wasn't surprised since he didn't join them for dinner hours ago.

 _How could I be stupid thinking he was good?_ The revelation of his dealings with the  _devil_  gravely changed her perspective of him entirely. Her once hidden fascination of him has now evolved into a repulsed curiosity.

She scanned the premises and realized his room was not as spacious as hers nor was it extravagantly designed. There was a simple black loveseat and coffee table in the corner of the room. Books—reference textbooks and poetry—were stacked on the floor and papers were scattered on the table but they were just sketches of gun designs and nothing really significant on them.

She went straight to his computer instead with a hopeful smile spread across her face but to her dissatisfaction, it only contained video games and not much else. There were no hidden encryptions but she checked the memory storage anyway only to discover that they were only game datas.

Her hope waned as she thoroughly searched the room for intel.

The first bedside drawer was irritatingly empty while the other contained a picture frame she couldn't see through the darkness. She went back to the computer screen's lights to see that it was a photo of a man and two boys holding his hand from both sides. Her heart sank. The photo has aged but she still perceived that famous face in his early thirties.  _Ned Stark._ The boy with red curly hair and a playful wide grin must be Robb and the curly black hair with a shy smile must be Jon.

She was deeply flustered until she saw a strip of light in between two giant bookcases attached to the wall. In her stupor, the bookcase was a door and the long narrow fissure was an opening towards a room.

Dany could almost hear faint and muffled splatters. Her curiosity guided her fingers in opening the door wide enough for her to take a peek.

It took awhile before her eyes adjusted to the light and she was paralyzed immediately to behold the sight before her. Her blood raised up to her skin and she was crimson red.

Jon Snow stood naked. His brawny arms leaning against the tiled walls as the water showered upon him. The glass of the shower fogged but it did not obscure his full chiseled back side to Daenerys.

A whimper escaped through her and she saw him twisting his head to her direction. She closed the bookcase as fast as she could only to realize the impact brought several books thumping on the floor.  _Shit!_

She scrambled under the bed when she knew she couldn't reach the door in time. Jon came out as he wrapped a towel on his hips—three stabbing scars visible on his well defined six pack.

"Hey, I saw you." She saw his feet striding to the bed. His right foot tapped impatiently on the carpeted floor. "Who are you kidding, Daenerys?"

She showed herself, controlling her facial expression vigorously and keeping her eyes from staring at his masculinity which glowed from the light of the bathroom.

He was dripping wet and his face amused, extending his hand for her. "C'mon out and join me in the shower instead."

"Give me a minute," she fake-vomited and raised her middle finger towards him.

"What are you doing here other than voyeurism?" He chuckled darkly, returning the fallen books on the bookshelf/door.

She couldn't hide her flush from the embarrassment. "You exactly know why I'm here so don't flatter yourself!"

"You can turn this place upside down and find nothing useful." He sighed and sat on the black loveseat eyeing her from head to toe.

"I saw you with that  _demon_. Why?" Dany resentfully scowled at him.

His softly amused expression went rigid. "He's  _Roose Bolton._ I'm Jon Snow. That's why." As if that was a sufficient explanation itself. "And what are you gonna do about it, love?"

"I'll take you down before you arm that demon with weapons, cut your hands off to unlock the biometric code in one of your jets and go home." It was simple and well-thought out.

"So you want to fight me right now, unstably dressed?" He was on his feet again and Dany caught her eyes before it betrayed her.

She put her bended arms in front of her, ready to attack. "Afraid?" She shot a provocative smirk to him.

"Shouldn't you be?" His dark eyes glinted menacingly, curiously tempted how her skin would feel against his lips.

"I'm far better than the pathetic girl you trounced two years ago." She deadpanned.

"I believe you but I'm confident you'll go down before my towel does." He cocked his neck side to side to stretch and teased her further. "Or is that what you intend to do? To see what's underneath this?"

"You're despicable." Her flushed anger was one of Jon's favorite things about her.  _This adorable kitten come to play._

"Fine, give me your best shot." He apathetically nodded and motioned for to attack.

Before she could even sweep a punch or do anything else, Jon was swift to tackle her towards the bed behind her. She ran out of breath as he pinned her arms and legs with his strong limbs.

The wetness from his hair dripped on her and she blushed heavily as the towel still fastened loosely on his hips. The image of him, lacked in clothing, sent her stomach tightening. She tried to wring her way out but he was solid like iron.

Slowly, he descended upon her and she closed her eyes shut in defeat—stupefied instantly. It felt like hours until she heard him chuckle again.

"See you at breakfast, love." He kissed her cheeks and released her.

______________________

T O   B E   C O N T I N U E D . . .


	18. 16 | ATTEMPTS Part Three

_______12/05/2016_______

_4:00 A.M._

A shuffle, a turn, a tumble.

Daenerys Targaryen couldn't sleep. How could she—flustered as she was—fall into a deep slumber? Her mind was restless, analyzing every factor that came across the nodules of her brain just to hypothesize an explanation to everything that circled back to Jon Snow.

And of all the queries running round her head, she managed to filter the very root of all her questions.  _Why is he doing all of this?_

For  **money**?  _No. Definitely not. It was too shallow if he needed money. An illegitimate son he might be but he is still the son of Ned Stark. He was still inheriting a chunk of riches that could have built this wonderland he calls a home. But he joined the Night's Watch instead and renounced his inheritance._ She shuffled to her side, drowning in confusion.  _Then he has a bedroom that only made it worth more than a million dragon coins because of his extensive collection of books?_

For  **power**?  _Probably but not completely. He rebelled against the Night's Watch to build his own empire. But even so with his highly advanced weapons that could take over Westeros and Essos overnight, he still remained in the shadows. Or maybe that's what the transmitter is for and Roose Bolton might have something to do with it?_ But there was still no concrete proof for that.

But why spend all those times working and teaching in the dark without any motives? Of course he has motives but Dany saved herself from pondering about it before she gets brain damage. It's just a matter of time before she finds out.

And then just like that, her cheeks burned red when she mistakenly let her guard down so her mind could go free to wander on its own. She needed a distraction to keep her from hyperventilating at the sight she beheld behind that bookcase/door.  _Who makes hidden bathrooms anyway?!_ She squirmed in embarrassment.

Raising her arms up for a stretch, she got up and sat by the tall glass windows to admire the northern lights dance in the sky. A peculiar sight caught her eye when she saw smoke floating from a white covered hilltop nearby with men dressed in black sat by the fire.

In a heartbeat, she put 3 layers of clothing under her white mink coat and busted out the door to get a closer look.

"Princess!" Avery stopped her by the time she reached the door towards the snow.

Dany almost punched him, not for startling her but for the aggravating nickname he called her. "It's Dany!"

"Sorry, I figured it's okay since the men call you prin—" Avery paused when she turned her back and kept walking. He was perplexed at her change of demeanor towards him. She wasn't hostile yesterday.

She didn't let him finish and trudged in six inches of snow only to register how cold it was in the Land of Always Winter post-storm. Under her breath, she cussed, regretting not adding more layers to her clothing. Heck, she could've worn all of it.

"Wait! Where are you going?" Avery followed her and kept up with her pace. He thought she was fast for her short stature.

"To the campfire?" Dany asked if he knew about it and his expression told her he did. And then, he suddenly halted. "You coming, Ave?"

"Trainees are not supposed to go there." He jutted his chin towards the light of the campfire then he shook his head as if he remembered something he didn't want to relive. "And I don't think boss wants to see my face. He was very upset of our project last night."

Dany's cheeks flushed deep from who Avery said was there in the campfire but she can't turn back now so she decided if the young man accompanied her, she wouldn't be the only one who's uncomfortable of Jon Snow's presence. "Boss. Schmoss. Come on!"

The two light-haired pair could hear the distant Northern folk music playing and singing. The feel of the cold suddenly eased and the mood lightened as the jolly music got louder as they treaded closer.

It was aggravatingly easy to spot Jon Snow with her uncontrollable searching eyes. He was sitting on a log playing a peculiar instrument placed flat against his chest as he plucked the taut strings with his fingers. The other men she didn't recognize played a violin and a bagpipe. And the man in center of it all was Edd who was singing a tale of a man and his ice queen.

The rhythmic ensemble disconnected and the music stopped abruptly when she and Avery arrived. Jon nudged Edd a commanding look and he nodded.

Edd stood but Grenn, a usual teasing smirk on his face, was quicker with his feet. "Princess."

"Oh hello, Grenn." She crossed her arms, casting an raised brow as he neared her.

"Couldn't sleep?" He asked as he guided her to the circle and cupped the palm of his hand to whisper. "Saw you running down the halls awhile ago from—" Grenn didn't need to finish his sentence to see her reaction.

No matter how hard she tried to control it, she reddened like a tomato. Thankfully, Edd pushed him to the side.

"Dany!" Edd caught up with them before they sat on the log across the fire to Jon Snow.

"Edd!" Dany was instantly grateful he came back and before she could catch up with the newly turned father, he averted his eyes to Avery behind Daenerys.

"Oye, what you doin' here? Go home, pretty boy." Edd pushed him back slightly.

"Yeah, go home, wanker." Grenn laughed, pausing at a radio on a tree trunk beside them.

Before Daenerys could defend the poor kid, Avery backed off immediately without saying a word—laughing softly with no sign of being offended at the banters the men had thrown at him.  And then she understood that Edd and Grenn were not that serious.

"I didn't think you'd be back so soon, Edd." Her face brightened to see the only man in the Land of Always Winter who didn't get to her nerves.

"Me either! The men needed me last night so I had to come back for awhile." He stretched and adjusted his black coat.

" _For awhile_?" There was a pint of disappointment to her tone.

"Yeah, Jon's expecting my resignation after Riverlands." He smiled sadly.

Stormborn would've asked about Riverlands but Dany—"He forced you to quit?"

"Yep." He chuckled like it was a mutual agreement.

"Oh," she lowered her eyes as her heart sank. But she waved off the sad vibe and asked what she's been meaning to know. "So how is it like to be a father now?"

"Gods have given me another reason to live, you know?" He sighed and leaned back, a glint of satisfaction and fear in his tired eyes.

"I'm happy for you." Dany placed her hand on his knee and cheerily smiled.

"Thank you." He returned the expression. "Now, how've you been?"

Her mouth opened with words ready to slip past her lips till she caught Jon Snow glancing at her through the flames for about a second and she completely forgot what she was about to say.

"Oye!" Grenn, tuning the radio, hollered for Edd and wordlessly told him boss needed him.

"I'll be right back." Edd was on his feet and the air seemed colder for her just then. And as if he felt her discomfort, he paused and turned back with a beer glass. "Ale?"

She nodded, accepting the glass and breathed in relief to know that there was something that could alleviate the frigidity after all. That's when she observed that they were all drinking. The cold must have affected her sharp senses so she took a long swig. It was strong but apt for the weather and as seconds past, she felt warmer.

" _Good morning, Westeros—if the rest of you fuckers are even listening to the best radio station of the North, White Walkers one-oh-eight point eight."_  
 _"This is Harry, your favorite disk jockey slash sports analyst._  
 _"And this is Niall, the wicked hunk—reminding Harry he's not that special."_  
 _"And we are, the White Walkers."_

The White Walkers' intro played which consisted of badly remixed music clips, voice overs and cheap explosion sound effects that Dany crinkled her nose in disgust but Jon Snow's men seemed to enjoy it because they amped up the volume.

_"Thank you for that interesting intro, mate."_   
_"Whoa, hold up! Did I hear that correctly? Did you just say thank you?"_   
_"Only because today is a bloody good morning for the North and heck, for the world, too. I'm not a morning person and I hate my job for it but it is definitely a good morning!"_   
_"No shit! Have you moved down South? Oye, you're giving the North a huge favor."_   
_"Fuck off mate! Here's some feel good music for you Westerosis out there while I give this man a proper sloppy snog."_

The former men of the Night's Watch—now men of the Nightswatch Enterprises—sang along to an obscenely idiotic song she haven't heard before, maybe because it's not that popular back in the South.

As the song got to its chorus, it was surprisingly catchy that she tapped her fingers on her lap in unison to the beat. The air was filled with joy she once knew of. Some of the men were dancing in circles around the campfire and Jon Snow, who was sitting on a log, laughed boisterously in the distance surrounded by some of his men.

It was an odd sight, seeing him on a log, drinking cheap beer and enjoying the company of simple men with simple lives.

Edd Tollet, singing and reeling like a drunkard at 5 o'clock in the morning, walked up to her in a mocking cordial manner and offered a hand to dance.

She can't help but feel amused of him shaking his hips like he did when he ushered her to her room days ago. She took his hand, not holding back this time, danced and hopped to the rhythm. Dany picked up the song quickly and it only took seconds before she sang the absurd lyrics with him.

This was the first time, in a really long time, she was truly elated. Dany couldn't remember how long it has been where she didn't fuss about her past or fight the turmoil in the South behind the Wall. Just this moment, Stormborn was forgotten.

____________________

Jon felt selfish then, and bold enough, to stare at her properly where he didn't have to maintain an expressionless smug. His features relaxed as he stared at her for as long as he could because this time he was sure she wouldn't notice.

There were reasons why he had her captured in which he felt like a bloody asshole for doing that. There were also reasons why he gave her that sword. If only he could tell her why but he had to wait for the right time—if there was even a chance—and if he even lived that long. But for now, all was gradually settling into place just as he had planned. Although, deep inside his subconscious, Jon knew she wasn't his yet. Not yet, until she finally tells him herself.

In a rush, Edd flipped her over his shoulder and she giggled like a little girl. Jon chuckled, too and memorized that look on her face then—the silver hair in disarray, the subtle smiling lines, the half-closed violet eyes and the faint flush on her cheeks, before it expires.

Her expression of mirth was just like the first time he saw her in the Red Keep's Dance Hall when he tested out his first invention —a camera attached to his redesigned toy car— as he searched for his brother during their fourth annual mixer.

She stood out easily from the rest of the young crowd. Her fair skin and light silver hair contrasted against dark wood and emerald walls. He almost dropped his tablet when he saw her through its tiny screen but of course she didn't see him as he hid in the dusty broom closet adjacent to the hall.

A surge of envy raised the tiny hairs of his nape to see Robb speaking to her even if he was embarrassing himself in trying to impress her.  Jon was bitterly jealous not because his brother was doing a fairly good job at it—he was not—but because  _he could_. He could do anything because he wasn't a bastard. The envy, though, dissipated abruptly when she giggled so beautifully. At that moment, he felt like he owed Robb for that instead.

Oh, how she suited the winter and the northern lights above her—Jon thought when he escaped the memory and looked at her now years after. He was certain she wasn't made for the south but for the north and hopefully,  _for a bastard like me?_

His bold staring eyes dropped then. He felt the familiar repressed shame that had always been haunting him for wanting her. Nobody deserves a girl like Dany— and even more so, not for the likes of him. Jon Stark still felt like that boy in the broom closet. He was  _no one_  who tried so hard to become someone but still it wasn't enough for him in spite of all his riches and scientific accomplishments. So with his selfishness and ambitious tenacity, he stole her from  _them_.

 _Them_. The aristocracy, the prestige, the violence, the injustice, the Wall and the history that had varnished him as  _untouchable—a bastard—_ before he even took his first breath in this world.

The world was unfair and taking her felt like a redeeming deviation to blur out the partition of black and white and  _shoving a stick right up their asses._ He can't deny how good it felt.  _Seven Hells, it felt great._

_"And we're back. That was "Bear and the Maiden Fair" by none other than Bronn Blackwater."_

He saw as Edd brought her back to her seat. She was out of breath, blushing and rubbing her palms together to fight the chilly breeze while she giggled again at something amusing his underboss has cooked up. Jon promised to thank him one day.

_"So tell me, how is it a good morning again, Harry? Have you finally come out of the closet, mate?"_   
_"No. But this is much better! The Northern Wolves made the Golden Lions look like fucking amateurs on the rink last night—eighteen to one!"_

His men howled in victory for the Northern Wolves. They haven't seen the game due to their nightly schedule patrolling and aiding Jon's untimely satellite synchronization because of the dislodged transmitter.

 _"That's it? I don't even watch hockey and that's supposed to make me feel good?"_  
 _"Shut it! I'm not finished Niall."_ Harry cleared his throat. " _Citizens, be ready to celebrate because a body has been recovered floating in Last River this morning—"_  
Niall interrupted.  _"Man, you're sick as f—"_

It's as if the earth had swallowed Jon whole when pertinent words rang his ear.  _Last River. Recovered body._ Instincts sent him dashing towards the radio, meters from him. He was too far away.

_"Not when the fucking dead body is Roose fucking Bolt—"_

Jon wasn't fast enough to turn it off and when he unwillingly laid his eyes on her to examine if she paid attention, he knew then that he messed up the image he built for her to believe.

_______12/04/2016_______

"—the deals off." Jon sat on the edge of the table with his usual brooding smug. They were inside the white room where he held his classes sometimes.

"A phone call would have sufficed, Jon Snow, than taking me here." Roose Bolton, sitting on one of the armchairs, seemed a bit pissed but he, too, was a master of apathetic expressions. After awhile, a smidgen of confusion furrowed his forehead, though. "Where is  _here_  anyway?"

"My home." Jon sighed and expected the man's curiosity after he had taken him from his land inconspicuously blindfolded. A man like him cannot be fully trusted especially after what he found out days ago.

Roose Bolton's narrowed sinister stare would make a lowly man run for his life but Jon never bat an eyelid for him. He completely knew who the man was and what he was capable of but Jon never flinched at his presence. If he did, he wouldn't have had the endurance of dealing with this Lord of Dreadfort for three years and earning his trust.

"Roose, I have summoned you here for a completely different cause." Jon stood and reached behind him under his shirt.

"And what would that be?" The Lord of Dreadfort suspiciously eyed Jon's odd movement.

He aimed his favorite revolver to Roose's head. " _For the chaos that follows."_

The sound of those words crumbled Roose Bolton's rigid façade into a mix horror, infuriation and fear. He never thought he would hear those words again, as if a ghost from the past have come to haunt him.

As the gears whirring on his head finally settled, he closed his eyes and a chuckle eluded from his thin pallid lips. "Of course, you're his son. I should have known." He shook his head in dire amusement. "And you look and sound just like him. I just—I always suspected it was your brother, but no he chose you after all—the  _bastard_." It seemed like he was talking to himself, of how he missed out all those signs. "You know he's never going to get away with it. He deserved to die."

After years of investigation—only to find out it was one of his clients and his father's past bannerman—he hungered to finally taste justice in his mouth.

"You didn't have the right to decide." His temper almost peaked as he pushed the gun's muzzle to Roose Bolton's pale creased forehead.

But the man never moved an inch, confident even at the brink of his death. Although Jon preferred to see the agony and regret in the demon's eyes for betraying his father, it was enough for him just to wipe him out of existence. Killing was easy—having done it countless of times just as he was taught to do.

"And yes, father never got away with it." Jon thought of Ned Stark at the second he cocked the hammer down with his thumb and finger pulling on trigger. "But I will."

Time slowed when he saw the satisfying red mist that sprayed to the white walls and the body of once the most sadistic man in Westeros limped lifeless on the floor.

Jon stepped over Roose Bolton's dead body as soon an his dispatchers entered the red door. "Clean this up and dump his body near Dreadfort." He instructed and closed the door behind him.

It was a force of habit for Jon to take a rigorous bath when he took someone's life even if not a speck of blood splattered on him. But to all his honesty, it doesn't really do much because deep inside his soul, he still felt stained, unclean for all eternity —as if the more he killed, the more tainted he was.

To his great misfortune, Grenn called him from behind. "Boss! We need you to activate the synchronization!"

Jon knew it couldn't wait. He has worked on the transmitter for years and he was finally on the peak of accomplishment. "Are the missiles planted?" He asked when he got to the observatory.

"All missiles are in place apart from the Riverlands. Their signal was cut, boss." Hunter spoke as he adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

"Bollocks." His fists tightened. "Nevertheless, we'll proceed." He breathed accepting the only imperfection of his plans. "I'll head there tomorrow to fix it. Edd, you're coming with me one last time. And Hunter, schedule the launch on the fifteenth."

He pressed both of his palms on the scanner to activate the launch sequence.

ACCESS GRANTED.   
SYNCHRONIZATION INITIALIZING AT  **2%**

The loading was finally completed at the stroke of midnight after Jon Snow dismissed his class. It called for a celebration so he expressed his utmost gratification and requested his ever trusted men to gather on the hill in two hours.

On his way out of the metal doors of the observatory, he almost broke down to tears if he just let it but he couldn't just yet until he retired to his room in private and take the bath he so well deserved.  _Father, we're almost there._

_______12/05/2016_______

The empty dinner table spawned a little pang of loneliness in Dany's heart. It was a mocking image of how she has lived her life in solitary isolation since Rhaegar passed away. So instead of allowing the empty dinner table to affect her skin deep, she went back to her room against the fearful insistence of Avery.

Persistent knocks on her door kept her peeved. Her vile thoughts of torturing Avery kept her in place and closed her lids shut. It was strange but slowly she seemed acquainted to the soft knocks that her mind drifted past to unconsciousness until the knocks turned into loud thumps on her door.

She awoke immediately, steaming with rage towards the door.  _Who does that boy think he—._ Her silent protests were cut short when she opened the door to see Jon Snow leaning on her doorframe.

"I'm headed to the Riverlands tomorrow. Would you like to come?" He asked casually, keeping a subtle smirk on his lips.

"You killed him." Dany blurted with a straight face.

"Have I now?" He raised a brow and smirked wider.

"Tell me, why are you doing all this?" Her forehead furrowed in curiosity, violet eyes intently searching for answers in his dark grey ones.

"I asked you a question first, peeping tom. Would you like to come with me to the Riverlands or not?" He repeated, his tone indifferent.

She nodded as she held the door about to shut it to his face but kept herself still and gave a snarky comment. "I'd like a different view this time. The  _snow_  bores me."

He averted his gaze to the side and chuckled, unaffected by her pun.

"Now tell me. Why are you doing all this?"

"May I come in first?" He didn't wait for her response and entered the room past her and sat on her bed without consent.

Dany narrowed her eyes when he patted the cushion beside him, beckoning her to sit. She refused and settled to the couch by the tall glass windows.

"My invitation to the Riverlands comes with a price, love. I came here to end your sleuthing," he uttered in brooding seriousness now.

"Then you better tie me up." Her words could've inspired her commander, Tyrion but it affected Jon in an entirely different manner.

Jon's face lightened and amused, her words giving him ideas in his head. "How tempting but for an entirely different purpose," he smirked this time staring at her provokingly from head to toe.

"Perv." Dany felt like covering herself just then.

"I'm kidding, voyeur." Jon laughed huskily and leaning back on her bed, arms on his stomach.

Blushing, she rolled her eyes trying to ignore his teasing stare. "And you were saying?"

Sitting back up and trying to recover, he adjusted himself properly like a debonair man that he was. "Hand me Avery's access card. Your spying days are over. What is it for, Daenerys? It's not going to be any use for you since there is no possibility of you seeing your precious Order of the Seven again."

She was on her feet, taking the card from the bedside drawer and handed it to him but she's not giving up just yet. "Nothing is impossible."

"Yes, so I tell my men." He nodded and breathed wearily as he motioned to the door. "I, then, rescind my invitation. Goodnight."

"Wait!" She clutched his sleeve and backed away as fast as she could. "Fine, I'll stop. But you have to tell me why you killed him and why you're doing all this."

"In my own time, I will tell you." Jon sighed apathetically but he surely was pleased to hear it. He leaned back on the wall fronting her who was now seated on the bed. The sight of her then evoked something in him but he restrained himself. "But starting now, you will act accordingly to my commands."

"Stop acting like I'm your property! Slavery has been abolished a century ago." She cannot put a finger as to why Jon Snow fires up the Dragon in her. He was unbearable.

"Slavery? Have I enslaved you? You are a guest in my home." Dany almost jumped at his raised husky voice.

"So is it a deal, then?" Stubborn Stormborn, as she was called back in the office, her brows lifted impatiently and arms folded to her chest.

"It's a deal." They shook hands but before she could draw back, he pulled her slightly. "But I will not rest till I will make you mine. Truly. And solely."

"You're insane!" She repelled in objection.

"Without a doubt." He leaned back again, agreeing.

"You can't have me." Dany backed away slowly to where her sword was. And she felt safer from Jon and from herself, too.

"What can I do to make you say yes?" He stepped forward provocatively and tugged the hem of his shirt. "Take my clothes off?"

"Do that and I swear to the Old Gods and the New that I'll sever your  _member_  to pieces." In a millisecond, the sword's blade glinted between them.

"Are you, with utmost seriousness, going to attack me again and this time, with the sword I gave you?" There was no hint of fear in his features but equal parts amused and cautious.

"Ironic, isn't it? Maybe I'll have the upper hand this time." She giggled cheekily. Gripping tight on its hilt, she swung the sword at him but he evaded it easily and laughing by her ear. The wall was slashed from where he stood moments ago.

He was standing on top of the bed now when she aimed sideways on his legs but he jumped just in time, breathlessly laughing. Dany couldn't catch him. "Or perhaps, if you'd be a good girl, I'd teach you how to properly swing one. Maybe then, you'd stand a chance. "

Dany groaned in frustration and annoyance.  _If he could just hold still._

"Careful, you might cut yourself." He panted trying to protect her when she turned hastily. To his surprise, he barely escaped the blade by his neck. Dany smiled wickedly but Jon decided playtime was over.

Another swing and Jon evaded it when he swiftly sidestepped behind her and lashed the sword away from her hands only to level the sharp blade by her neck and his left arm wrapped around her waist to hold her still.

Dany gasped as the blade inched closer to her. She couldn't help but press her back towards him even further. In effect, a rush of warmth from their physical contact sent shivers her down spine that was intensified with fear and something else entirely.

"Can I have you?" His voice calm and almost pleading as he breathed on her bare shoulder. Taking a whiff of her skin once again and cupping the undersides of her right breast, his embrace tightened around her.

She held her breath as his beard ghosted the outline of her shoulder up to her neck with the barest of friction. She swallowed the lump in her throat and felt her heartbeat flutter violently.

The edge of the blade was centimeters away from her as it urged her to answer his question. If she says yes, it would save her life but he will get what he wanted. If she says no, she dies.

" _NO_." Her pride stood unfaltering. She closed her eyes and her heart was about to implode till she heard a thud on the ground.

He kicked the fallen sword away and wrapped his right arm around her waist. "There are three noes in my book, love." Jon muzzled his face through her hair and she felt his warm breath tickling her nape as he spoke. "The first  _no_  always incites me."

She instantly felt dizzy. Her free arms went heavy as she burned aflame under his touch and her body deemed useless to hinder herself from falling into his grasp.

"The second  _no_ —" Jon slowly moved the thin strap of her silk night gown aside and it slid down, almost baring her right breast.

" _No_ ," she spoke through her teeth, her mouth was all she could control against him.

"It challenges me." His right hand travelled down to the short hem of her dress as he caressed her thigh.

Dany let out a short soft moan and regretted it. She wanted so much more but her pride still fought weakly. Her weak hand found his and tried to stop it from trailing towards where it wanted. To her regret, it didn't move any further and only rested on her hip.

But then again, his other hand cradled her face towards his. Her eyes closed and their lips hairsbreadth away. Jon saw her delicious mouth parting, waiting for him. "And the third—" He whispered as he inched closer.

Daenerys needed to have him. Her pride vanished as desire set ablaze to every part of her. She couldn't wait any longer for what he would do to her when she said the third and final " _NO_."

____________________


	19. 17 | RIVERLANDS

_______12/06/2016_______

"Should I be asking what's up with you two?" At long last, Edd Tollet, a kind and unaggressive man he may be, broke the silence like an itch he'd been yearning to scratch.

The submarine's lounge was eerily quiet and it had bothered him since he got up from the control room after setting their destination to Seagard Port.

"No." They both replied in a haste. Jon Snow was making himself a drink for the third time while Daenerys was reading the same unturned page of a book for the past half hour.

"I figured." Edd smirked when he sat beside Dany and peeked on the page she's been staring at. She immediately closed the book but Edd managed to see what it was — a poem of only three stanzas. He sighed and sat back comfortably with his palms resting under his head. "Well, this is going to be the longest six hours to the Riverlands."

But Edd couldn't keep his mouth shut because the air in the room of silence was beginning to deafen him if he didn't make a sound. "Okay, you got me. I'm fookin' curious. Now, what is it?"

Daenerys pretended not to hear a thing because her thoughts were deeper than the ocean they were in. Can't seem to decide how she felt, her head ached. Anger? Aggravation? Shame? Hunger?  _Yes, yes, maybe and definitely NO, respectively._ Angry because— _because he took advantage of me!_ Aggravated because— _I let him. Shame because I wanted him to. Hungry for him? Not a chance. No way._

But she was when Jon left her room after she said the third and final  _no_.

It did not only enrage her desire for his touch but also her  _loathing_ towards him—for leaving her seduced like that— and her  _irritation_ —because she couldn't blame him for leaving since she's the one who said  _no_ in the first place.

And now Dany asks herself why would she feel such things when she's convinced that her lust for him was nonexistent?  _Whatever mind games he's playing me, I'm not falling for it._

As perplexed as she was, Jon, on the other hand, was sullenly frustrated.  _She said no. Why?_ He asked himself and regretted it instantly when the answers that came out of his subconscious kicked him in the balls.  _Because you're nobody. A bastard. A psycho._ He shook his head and conjured another drink to help him with his inner frustration of being hindered or criticized for who he was.

"The tension in this pressurized vessel is suffocating me." Edd groaned. "If Grenn was here, he'd reckon something happened between you two." He expected a reaction but Jon was in his usual apathetic expression immersed in his newly acquired vice of alcoholism while Dany acted like the sight of the empty deep blue icy waters fully interested her.

"No?" Edd attempted to verify but both of them ignored him so he propped his feet on the coffee table and closed his eyes. "Alright. I'll just hang 'round here and talk to myself."

The underboss tried to sleep but he couldn't. He missed his son and his wife and couldn't deny how he wished he stayed by their side instead.

He came not only because Jon requested his company for the last time, but because he wanted a little action before he retired for good. But now it seemed like a dreary chore to take these mortal enemies to the Riverlands and back.

A clanging sound brought him back to consciousness before he had drifted to sleep.

When he was about to discern that he was alone in the white lounge, he found Dany on her knees admiring Dark Sister on the coffee table. "You brought the sword."

Dany gripped on the hilt protectively before she realized it was just Edd. "You knew about this?"

"Damn well. We've been searching for that for two years." He stretched his limbs and sat with her on the carpet.

"What?" Her violet eyes bewildered at the length of time the search took.  _Two years? Could it be after we first met?_

"Jon didn't tell ya?" Edd was as confused as her just then but nodded understandingly. " 'Course. He doesn't like to talk much about his conquests." He muttered to himself.

"Conquests?—"

"Oh, you should have seen him slay a gigantic stoneman." He cut her off with the memory.

But she was more confused than she ever was. "What does that have to do with the—"

"We found it in Valyria." Edd explained.

"Oh." Somehow Dany pieced it all together except for one. "He told me he asked other men to seek for it."

"You should get used to that humble liar." Edd was not surprised and could see the glint of admiration in her eyes that made him chuckle. "Give him a chance, bud."

"Why would I give my kidnapper a chance?" Her chin jutted in refusal of the idea when deep inside, she could feel her heart soften.

Edd, amused of her usual stubborn personality resurfacing, gave a calm and earnest smile before he spoke. "You'd be surprised when you do." And he stood, headed down to the control room to leave her with her thoughts. He didn't know why but he felt somehow she will reconsider. 

"There's a thunderstorm coming in the next two days, faintly hitting Riverlands." Jon uttered facing the meteorological map on screen when Edd reached the end of the steps.

From the level of hard liquor he consumed, Edd suspected he'd be lying on the ground but no—Jon was studying a storm's activity and his keen senses were still intact to notice Edd's presence. 

Taking a closer look, Edd saw the spiral white diagram edging towards the Neck and its tail hitting the outskirts of the Riverlands. "Damn, Neck. I wouldn't want to live in that shit of a place ever." He was squinting in disgust to the thought and thankful that Jon didn't engage his trading with the crannog men of the Neck. "Fookin' bogs and marshes."

"She doesn't like me that much, Edd."

It was the moment Edd reckoned that the alcohol did actually hit Jon. He knew his boss was not that unconstricted when it comes to his emotions. "What's not to like?"

"Well, I did steal her. That's one." His attempts to humor his friend gave an awkward air of calm melancholy in his tone that left Edd in a bit of discomfort. Jon kept his gaze onto the monitor with a labored smile. "And she tried to kill me. Twice."

"Maybe the lady just needs a little persuading, eh?" Smiling apologetically, Edd countered with positivity.

"Trust me, I did all the persuasion possible. " Jon leaned back on his seat and closed his dark eyes with a sigh of defeat and exhaustion.

"You fancy her not because she's easy, Jon." He reminded the lad.

"I know, I know but she—she can be a real pain in the ass." Jon chuckled. It was true. He can't help but admit that he saw her as a challenge of his delimitations of being a bastard. Indeed, she was a prize but that's just among her other numerous significant qualities that Jon adored.

"Women, I say, are." Edd concluded and nudged his friend's shoulder. "Get to know her better. Show her the Jon Snow I know."

"Isn't it too late for that?" Jon finally glanced sideways, looking at him in the eye with a pleading uncertainty marked on his brows.

Edd raised the hem of his shirt and pointed on a scar in a shape of a diamond etched on his stomach which Jon had seen before as a fresh critical wound. "Had my wife stab me in the gut the first time we met. I don't think it's too late."

"You said Allister Thorne's men did that." He was in disbelief.

"It sounds a lot better than being stabbed by a woman." Edd admitted.

"Touché. But you're not the only one, mate." He raised his shirt to reveal stab marks on his chest and stomach. "She did this the first time we met. Thrice."

"She's a keeper." Edd laughed, mocking a sorry expression and shook his head. "You're gonna need a fookin' redhead's luck for that, Jon."

Jon stiffened at the old well-known phrase.

It had taken awhile before Edd took account on what slipped through his mouth— _Red._  "Sorry."

"She hasn't returned. I haven't heard from her either." He sat back, fiddled on the silver pen he retrieved from his shirt pocket, and rubbed its engraving with his thumb.

"She didn't take it well?" He pursed his lips from the willies and brushed his palm on his nape repeatedly.

"No. It was my fault." The guilt haunted him in his sleepless nights. Ygritte was one of the brightest students he ever came across beyond and within the Wall and he broke her heart because he was selfish, ambitious and— _a fucking asshole._

"Don't take it so hard on yourself." He patted the man whose expressions roam wildly more times than he had witnessed in seven years. "She knew it was coming."

Edd's words made sense to Jon but he still couldn't ease the guilt away because pushing her away the whole time she was by his side made him feel like he was no different from one of  _them_ —the people who marred his existence. And it only made him see clearer now that she's gone.

He decided he needed just one more scotch and he'll be fine. So he left Edd who was preparing their arrival to the discreet docks of Seagard Port. Jon headed up to where his liquor waited for him.

But to his thirst and intoxication, he skipped on one fact that Daenerys was there eyeing him as he hastily poured on another glass. He, ashamed of his sudden craving for alcohol, lowered his flask mid-pour when he met her faultfinding eyes. He sighed, brooding as he leaned on the edge of the bar with two hands. "I failed to apologize for what happened last night. I'm sorry."

Dany expected him to say something snarky and clever like what he always does and she had come up with the counter arguments in her head to tell him how much of a prick he was. It was flawlessly played on her mind when she gets the chance—but this? This was a new side of Jon Snow for her. Her mouth opened to speak but—

"You don't have to say anything." He breathed and went to his room—a door by the bar—to take a good nap. He never came out again until they arrived in a secluded dock with no man in sight.

With her sword strapped to her back, she was escorted by Edd out to an old wooden wharf above the waters of Ironman's Bay.

The new scene made Dany breathe in the lush greens of the area while they waited for Jon.

They didn't wait long.

Jon came out of the hatch a different man from the intoxicated one they witnessed hours ago. He was in his usual expressionless self again—clean, sane and handsomely dressed in a tieless black dress shirt over his crisp black suit.

"Let's go." He said not meeting their eyes and opened the sliding wooden door of an old barn.

Edd ran after him to help but he was too late when Jon pushed it away with one swing. The dust fluttered in the air revealing an old luxurious car inside covered with a torn up sailcloth.

"Where to boss?" Edd asked as he beckoned Dany to get in the backseat before sitting on shotgun.

"The Twins." Jon revved the car and drove off, 180 miles per hour, to the road surrounded by lush greeneries.

Dany's nose crinkled not from the smell of old leather but of the destination she wasn't too excited about.

She had her fair share of Walder Frey's sick delight in seeing her and begging Aerys to wed her when she turned sixteen. Of course her father almost burned him alive but the memory still gets her squirming. No matter her curiosity for the need of communication between Nightswatch Enterprises and The Twins, it wasn't worth it.

Although she sat in the backseat, Jon noticed and assumed her disgusted expression was caused by the stench so he lowered the windows.

Meanwhile, Edd understood her hesitancy and cooked up a scheme that made him fight to control his teasing smirk from materializing. "I can set the signal up in Frey's Manor, Jon. You can take Dany in Oldstones ahead if you'd like."

Predictably, Jon started to refuse. "There's not much to see in—"

"I'd like to go." Dany grabbed her chance and bit her lip timidly, looking out the window when she caught his dark eyes through the rearview mirror.

"You can drop me off in the Twins then I'll take the train to Oldstones and walk after I deal with weasel-face." Adjusting for his seat to recline, his teasing smile came out briefly but it never went unnoticed by Jon who was clearly heightened in awareness to every motion within the vehicle—even Dany's silver hair dancing through the wind and her faint flush against the cool, non-glacial breeze he had memorized.

"Alright. We'll see you in the warehouse in an hour." He said in a reluctant manner as they arrived in Walder Frey's bridge that once was a significant edge in wars and alliance until the government built bridges in the Red, Green and Blue Fork instead of negotiating with the despicably old frail man.

When Edd left and Jon sped off like a maniac blurring the view through the open windows, Dany felt awkward being alone with him once again. And she hadn't made up her mind if she was still mad at him.  _He apologized after you tried to cut him with the sword he gave you and after he asked you if he could have you without going against your will!_ She was a mess and unable to come up with words to say.

But unlike her, Jon was grateful for the silence. It was difficult to admit but he feels like a pussy—scared of what she'd say that might sting his soul.

So they drove off to Oldstones, noticing the sky overcast growing darker as they reached the top of the hill by the banks of  the Blue Fork where the ruins of the House Mudd Castle remain.

The car stopped by the cliff overlooking the vastness of Riverlands under the light of a gloomy sunset.

"You can go out—" Finally, he broke the silence after seeing her like a caged up bird trying to get a clearer view. "—since we're walking from here."

And she did, her face lightened by the idea. Daenerys gasped at the beauty in front of her but the more she stared, gradually, the breeze altered to stormy gusts. She had to hold her skirt from swaying violently with it.

"We have to start walking before it rains." Jon suggested brooding at the skies above them as he stood from sitting on the hood. He turned his back and walked, feeling detached if she followed or not.

But Daenerys followed him keeping the distance of a meter away as they entered the ruins with trees sprouting on its foyer.

It was a grand and ancient castle that Dany believed was built by the First Men—just as the castle he bought in the Stormlands called the Storms End. She was sure it was not a coincidence. He was a Northerner at heart—embracing his race as a descendant of the First Men.

Minutes passed and it was beginning to get difficult walking downhill in the dark on a forest of leaves, gravel and boulders with her white stiletto shoes. Even if her heels sunk on the soft dirt, she could manage. She's not just some lady. She was a highly lethal spy.

The sky rumbled and soon she felt the drizzle on her skin. Her shoulders glowed from the dampness.

Every time Jon glances at her, it always seem like it was the first time because the astonishment he feels for her timeless beauty is always on the same magnitude—sometimes above it. It was milliseconds after he registered that she was in difficulty of walking down his tracks that he felt the need to guide her but never dared to touch her again—not until she asks. "We're almost there."

"There you are!" Edd yelled cheerily when they reached a clearing below. He stood by a massive warehouse with doors of an airplane garage. "I see you took the  _long cut_."

It was subtle but Edd noticed Jon's glare clearly not pleased about showing Dany around a derelict castle in a weather like this at twilight. There was nothing to show, really.

What made the Oldstones special was its history—not its view. And Jon wasn't in the mood for talking and now that he's thought about it—Daenerys haven't uttered a word either.

"Seven hells!" Edd panicked almost startling Dany who didn't see anything disturbing from empty white floors of the warehouse until she understood that it was what made it disturbing after all. "Last time we checked, this warehouse is stacked." Stacked with the most lethal weapons for trading.

"Thieves." It was instinct for Jon almost as if he could feel the unusual electricity whizzing through the air. He stepped inside, drawing his gun from the waist of his trousers and beckoning for them to stick with him. "They're still here."

Edd drew his gun in hand and slightly bending his knees closer to the ground, keeping a watchful eye on the slightest of movements as he protectively trailed behind Dany who was steps away from Jon.

Jon straightened himself, inserting his gun back to his waist and swaggeringly strode further seconds before Daenerys saw a middle-aged brown foreign man dressed with fine silk and thick gold chains on his neck and wrists appearing from the dark exit way of the other side of the building. There were two large men on either side of him in matching dark uniforms.

"It seems that fate has finally brought us together, Jon Snow." The brown man with a prominent nose having a slightly aquiline bridge opened his arms as if to welcome Jon Snow.

Jon paused when they were meters away from them and sighed lazily with a tone calm and pleasant on the surface. "Please do vacate this place Grazdan, while I'm being passive. If you show your aggravating face any longer, I might tear you down to shreds."

"Ah, the eloquence of a wolf." Grazdan chuckled menacingly and stretched forth his palm to his side, presenting the empty warehouse like a surprise gift. "You like what we did to the place?"

"Truly. I may as well thank you for cleaning my warehouse." Jon playfully verified the place with a mocking admiration and tossed one dragon coin at Grazdan's feet. "A gold coin for your service."

The foreign man's jaw tightened and face soured.

"It's worth how much in where you're from?" Viciously snarky, Jon put his hands in his pockets awaiting for a priceless reaction.

"I have you know I am from the Old Ghiscari Empire—," his full lips curved in anger.

"Ah yes, once great but now a pitiful decadent ruin," he didn't let him finish and scratched his bearded jaw with a disinterested expression. "My friends from the New Ghis and I laugh at your meek efforts in poorly replicating my weapons."

"Thus, we have come." Grazdan's gold-chained hand gripped in controlled fury.

"And you can keep what you stole. Now, skedaddle, before I change my mind." His hand gestured a dispelling motion, shooing them away.

The man smiled while his lips pursed and shook his head in disagreement. "Not until we take you with us."

"You and what army?" Jon laughed and regretted that he had to ask.

Grazdan clapped his hands once and armed men approached on the hanged walkways on the sides of the high walls surrounding them by 180 degress.

Jon calculated that they were outnumbered by ten—no— _eleven_.

"Surprise! Quote on quote the best marksman of your time. Am I right, Jon?" A fierce female voice came forward with the clacking of her boots that paused to stand behind Grazdan.

"Red." Much to Ygritte's disappointment, he was expressionless.

Even in her betrayal, taking their petty foe to their largest underground warehouse in Westeros, it was no surprise to Jon. Although, he prayed she'd do the right thing for her people, it was inevitable that she would do something drastic—that was something that differed her from Jon. Her intelligence, her wits, were for nothing as she was degraded by her own emotions. But Jon's guilt twisted the knife as he was purely responsible for it all.

"Edd." She smirked at the familiar face then her jaw clenched to see Daenerys in between them. "Dragon bitch."

"Birdbrain," Dany smiled sweetly but with a poisonous glare that she knew gets in Ygritte's skin.

"It's been—what?—days?—and that's what you came up with?" Ygritte snarled, baring her crooked teeth. "How original."

"Actually, I just proved how brainless you are now to fight on the wrong side." She laughed halfheartedly.

Ygritte's face hardened while Jon and Edd were a bit taken aback by her allied comment.

"Let me interrupt before this turns to a womanly scuffle." Grazdan laughed a harmoniously pestering one as he held Ygritte's shoulder which did not amuse her one bit. "Come with us Jon and your friends will not be harmed."

Calmly, he took a step forward as if he didn't need to think it through. It's the only way he could protect Daenerys and Edd when they were greatly outnumbered. Ygritte's grin widened, pleased at his temporary surrender.

On the spur of the moment, Dany clutched Jon's arm and intertwined her fingers to his. "He's not going anywhere."

Jon was seldom caught off guard but this was one of those rare moments. His breath was subtly uneven by the fluttering feeling. He wanted to see for himself that simple gesture—which always meant more than anything else—and her threatening, almost protective, glare to Grazdan.

Through the wildling's perspective, that sight was almost familiar except that she once was the woman who attempted to hold his warm calloused hand. She anticipated his usual response of withdrawing his hand instantly from the mushiness of it all but Ygritte was left with an overdue expectation and suppressed frustration when Jon didn't move an inch from Daenerys.

He couldn't let go of her hand just yet. It was the kind of intimacy he wanted to last awhile longer. When he gathered his strength to softly unravel their fingers from one another and take a step forward, her grips on his sleeve and hand tightened, her eyes wordlessly insistent for him to stay no matter what.

Dany thought they could take them if they just risked it.

"Letting your  _whore_  decide for you, Jon Snow?" Grazdan bellylaughed.

That scurrilously referent word regarding Daenerys ticked on Jon's ear.

"Just tell me when, boss." Edd, with the ever allegiant courage on his expression, whispered by his side—awaiting for his order of attack. He was surreptitiously blissful of the anticipated outcome of this encounter seeing Jon peaking on his rage.

It didn't take a second for him to react, pushing Dany behind him with his right arm and spewing bullets with the pistol on his left hand taking men above easily like stepping on ants.

And just what he expected, Ygritte and two henchmen ran taking Grazdan to safety while Edd finished the others appearing out the door. Jon knew they wouldn't dare put a bullet through his head. They needed him.

The two were running out of bullets but they were making it count.

Dany had never seen more headshots in a single gunplay and yearned to participate but they weren't listening to her plea as they ran across the other side where the idle vehicles were stashed away.

"Hand me a gun!" She yelled again through the raucous eyeing both Jon and Edd's unused guns on their backs.

Both men didn't listen. Jon's instinctual aptitude was to protect her. Handing her a gun would only turn her into a proper threat, thus, a certain target for Grazdan's men.

Edd, on the other hand, refused to arm her just in case she nips them in the butt. After what he's heard from Jon, Daenerys could just be waiting for her opportune moment to kill them and escape.

But it was the least of Dany's concern. It's been awhile since she had sprinted that far before and clearly hadn't prepared her for it with her white stilettos and pale peach sundress. If they just let her help them and they'd be on their way to safety.

When they reached the other side, there were two cars—a muscle car and a sports car— and a dirt bike she assumed was Jon's because of their color he is most fond of.

Before Jon could even voice his orders, one of Grazdan's men threw a grenade on his black sports car. Acting upon impulse, he hurled Dany down to the ground and covered her. It deafened the three of them who hid by the muscle car.

"Fuck." Jon cursed under his breath when he saw one of his cars scorched into eradication.

The man responsible was fleeing but slumped to the ground with Jon's bullet making bloody mists on his head. He was the last of them who stayed.

"Edd, take the motorcycle and call for backup. Frey's men can catch up to them before they could leave Riverlands. Meet us at the port."

Edd nodded and revved out of the premises.

"Get in the—" a pillar collapsed before he could finish his sentence and blocked the door of the muscle car. It was as if the odds were against them.

Taking her hand and leading her towards the other side, Ygritte was on a stack of wooden crates, aiming towards him.

Jon drew his gun and directed the muzzle to her, too. He shadowed Dany behind him protectively.

Ygritte smiled when she knew Jon wouldn't take her life. Because if he meant to, she would've been dead by now.

He stood there with his gun stretched in front of him but the sight was awkward for the wildling when she realized he was using his left hand to shoot—his dominant right hand, interwoven to Daenerys'.

She cracked.

Once was enough. Twice was the death of her. Her hair now kissed by a vengeful fire gave her a sudden urge to kill her greatly scorned nemesis who was hiding behind the man she loved. Only the smallest portion of her skin showed and it was enough for Ygritte.

The wildling pulled the trigger and the its bullet grazed on Dany's arm. Before she could admire her bleeding work, a torturous pain registered to her senses. Her eyes widened when blood stained her hand coming from her stomach.  _He shot me!_

It hurt Jon for shooting Ygritte but not as much as the regret for not doing it any sooner.

Dany collapsed behind him just in time for him to catch her. She screamed in pain, losing control over her body as the poison spread dreadfully slow in torment.

Jon exactly knew how excruciating it was because he invented that gun containing the most potent form of the deadly poison,  _wolfsbane_.

In no time, he laid her on the backseat and drove off to the closest place he could find an antidote—Winterfell.

______________________

9:54 PM

It was a death wish to head to the place he was mostly unwelcome. He knew he couldn't escape from that fortress with his head attached to his neck.

He could hear his father's voice completely against his drastic action.  _You are throwing our years of planning—for a girl, Jon._

Now he completely understood Ygritte— if her affection towards him even came close to his feelings for Daenerys. This was his second act of selfishness. First was taking her and now, for saving her life which was entirely out of context from Ned Stark's orders.

Daenerys was now unconscious by the pain. Tears stained her cheeks and face too pale to tell if she was even alive.

But Jon knew he had at least 8 hours to save her and Winterfell was just five hours away.

 _If I could just stop this place from raining,_ he muttered to himself as the heavy downpour started blurring the windshield. The windscreen wiper was deemed useless by the strength of the pre-storm precipitation of the Neck.

In what started a whimper, Daenerys' bloodshot eyes opened and she screamed in agony as her body started writhing at the pain.

Jon held her hand and started cussing and soothing her with his assuring voice but he knew it wasn't of any help. Daenerys was on her own in this twisted torture.

He felt the need to speed up to 200 miles per hour and saw a big white blur in front of him that made him swerve as fast as he could. It all went blindingly swift as the car was spinning out of control to their doom.

At that moment of desperation, subconsciously, he heard a distinct, almost forgotten voice that has unforeseenly resurfaced from the back of his mind that he didn't think he'd still remember. It has been years and years since he last heard of him but the memories came rushing back.

_Prove you're worthy of my sister, Jon Stark._

______________________


	20. 18 | GREYWATER WATCH Part One

_______12/07/16_______

Jon could tell he was dreaming because he is in that dusty broom closet again hiding from the revelry thronged by Westerosi aristocrats in the Great Hall of the Red Keep.

It was peculiar because in this recurring dream he usually appears as a child but this time he was oddly full grown.

The small room was almost suffocating him but he didn't dare come out just to be the recipient of their glares with insufferable criticism. Instead, he waits till the party was over. 

In a fleeting nostalgia, his tablet, which controlled his surveillance toy car, showed a silver-haired girl. She was giggling with faceless men and women and she looked bright and beautiful as she always does.

But as Jon stared deeper into those half-closed violet eyes and faintly flushed cheeks, she paused and stared back at him—at him! Through the screen, it seemed like she saw him watching her.

Her radiant face frowned at Jon and a wave of shame flooded him.

Out of the blue, the tablet screen started to crack and she screamed as if it pained her. Jon tried to stop the cracks but he couldn't. Her tears were bloody and her wails turned into rough agonizing sounds.

In desperate rashness, he pushed the door open and shoved the crowd that blocked his way, ignoring the criticizing whispers. They were too many but it didn't matter because they were all strangely weightless.

And before he could reach her, writhing on the ground, the scene floated into black and a stranglehold choked him.

"Dead." The man with silver white hair and comely features let go of his hold. "You are reckless, Jon. You act upon emotion."

Rubbing the sore area of his neck and propping on his knees, he coughed and faced the man with a mix of dread and utmost respect. "Tell me how I should act, then."

"Smarter." Rhaegar beckoned him to get up and posed for another sparring assault.

All sweat and bruises, Jon wiped the blood on his left eye with the back of his hand but unfortunately, it still casted red on his vision. Nevertheless, he put his fists in front of him in his fighting stance.

Amidst his injuries, he felt younger and his attacks a bit juvenile and reckless. He had no control but come at this Targaryen prince upright with a weak punch.

Rhaegar evaded it easily and Jon could almost foresee what happens next. He managed to pull the teenage boy and slammed him on the ground with ease. "A mouth of promises you keep but you better prove yourself worthy of my sister, Jon Stark."

Jon tried to protect himself by positioning his knee as a barrier from Rhaegar's attempts to a guillotine-choke.

But Rhaegar was a dangerous man in combat. He wasn't called the best warrior in Westeros for nothing.

He maneuvered a way in to Jon's defense and proceeded on his stranglehold sucking the life out of the teenage boy.

A blinding light jolted Jon awake on the driver's seat, coughing from the illusory choke. It was all a dream but it wasn't created entirely out of random fictional imagination. The last part of it was a memory.

A lost memory of Rhaegar Targaryen.

But he didn't have time to think. In fact, he has forgotten the dream and registered the throbbing ache on his head, the soft beeping sound coming from the car door's sensor, the faint bluish headlights blurring from the heavy downfall, the uneven breathing of Daenerys and the sticky substance—he reckoned to be blood—was on his palm after he touched the swelling on his hairline.

And yet he didn't care because Daenerys was all he could think about. She was paler than he could ever imagine, laying on the backseat unscathed.

He was thankful she didn't hurt herself from the crash as he glanced on the dashboard for the time.

12:31 AM — 3 hours till full circulation of poison.

His heart shrunk as he yearned to beat himself to death for losing consciousness because now he had so little time.

Retrieving his mobile phone, there was no signal for him to call anyone for help.  _Of course. Neck._

Winterfell was still four hours away and he needed to find a cure in less than three hours.  _Three fucking hours._ And the worst part of it all, he couldn't start the car again having its engine submerged to a swamp and its front wrecked to oblivion. It had seemed that they fell to a downslope forest.

A road collision on the Neck is the most damned fate they could have experienced. Apart from the vast land with so little population, the crannog men remained a bit primitive as the world advanced. So finding the cure is definitely a morbid challenge in this wet and mucky version of hell.

The rain never ceased but he didn't have any choice but to find someone—anyone—that could help them.

It took him awhile to notice his right foot was broken into a million pieces because it was agonizingly unbearable but his deathly worry over Daenerys halfly numbed that feeling.

So he strapped dark sister to his back, donned Daenerys with his jacket and carried her by his arms as he trudged in the muddy uphill where he could find a road.

The precipitation had him aware of his cuts and bruises subsequently as it stung when they were fully drenched.

Apart from the pain, he was panting from his and her weight increasing each minute as the water soaked in their clothing.

"Don't die on me." He whispered hopelessly, hearing the ticking of death mocking him. "I have to tell you why I'm doing all this, remember? I can't tell you now so you better live, Daenerys. Dying is unacceptable."

She seemed dead if it weren't for her unsteady breaths. Jon couldn't comprehend the torture she was enduring and it was all his responsibility. He played it over and over in his head how he could've protected her better, how he could've shot Ygritte the moment she aimed at them. But the wildling was his protégé.

1:31 AM — 2 hours till full circulation of poison.

When they reached the road, he was limping as he treaded North hoping for cars to pass by and all the while, glancing from side to side to see if there were inhabitants in the area. But they were alone in the rain up until he heard a deep loud sound of an animal.

He turned to see a white cow  _moo_ ing meters behind them. Jon then realized that that ugly cow was the culprit of their crash. "Thanks a lot, asswipe. Now, where's your owner?"

And in an instant, the large animal stared at him intently that Jon was nearly convinced it understood his insult.  _Am I that hopeless to believe that—_

The cow craned its neck and  _moo_ ed, beckoning towards the forests behind them. Jon hypothesized he was seeing things but nonetheless he looked at where the cow pointed.

There was a light too vague from the rain that he would have missed it if he didn't survey the trees carefully.

So he followed the light and hobbled in difficulty off the road and on to a ravine in the deep rich forest of bogs and marshes that were too sticky, it tugs slightly on his boots enough to pain him even further.

Excruciating as it is, he wouldn't let pain hinder him from saving her.  _Pain is bearable even at its extent,_ he reasoned in motivation.  _Mind over matter, Jon._ "We're almost there, sweetheart. Hang on."

2:36 AM — 1 hour till full circulation of poison.

A small cottage appeared through the trees with light on the side of its porch. "Hello!? Is anybody there? Please help us!"

Not a sound.

"Hello!" Jon yelled desperately and placed Dany on the porch where she was shielded from the rain. But when Jon stepped closer, he noticed the door was sealed by two planks for wood that formed an X.

It was abandoned and Jon's heart almost crushed. The light was powered by solar that's why it lighted even if there was no one around.

In hasty desperation, he pulled the X ignoring the splinters and raced inside putting the pale girl on the sofa that was covered with white fabric.

The house seemed abandoned without warning because it was not empty. It was fully furnished. Unwashed plates were even left on the washstand for years.

Rushing towards the kitchen, he saw familiar faces on a dust-covered photograph but he didn't have time to process them for recognition. He needed the cure. There was nothing.  _Fuck._

When he went in a room, it seemed like a bedroom through the flashlight of his mobile phone. Nothing useful was in there and so was its bathroom.  _Old Gods, please._

On to the next, his eyes widened when it resembled to a little shabby lab. With no hesitation, he hopefully rummaged to the cabinets and phials of all sorts of peculiarity. There were dozens and dozens of the most uncommon poisons in the world including wolfsbane.

 _Who's house is this?_ He began to curiously query but placed it at the back of his mind first.  _If there's poison, there's an antidote._

And there they were in a cabinet beside the lethal poisons and his heart leapt to see the antidote for wolfsbane.

He scurried as if his life depended on it that the pain in his foot was completely forgotten.

Daenerys was burning hot when he reached her. Tears were shedding down the sides of her face and her uneven breaths shook her limbs.

Jon withdrew the antidote from its phial and injected her thoracic cavity—into her heart. "You'll be okay. You'll be okay."

_____________________

5:56 AM

With a deep headlong inhalation drawing the air through her mouth, she awoke as if it was the first time her chest functioned properly.

Her lids were unable to open through her exhaustion—so did every muscle in her body.

It confused her because she didn't remember a thing after she held his hand.  _Was I shot? Am I paralyzed?_

Internalizing the peril she was possibly in, she shut her eyes tightly from knowing what consequences did a simple gesture of holding Jon Snow's hand did to her.

That mere strain on tightly shutting her eyelids exhausted her already even with the tiniest bit of effort. So she relaxed and absorbed what her other senses has provided apart from her sight.

 _Rain,_ she heard.  _Old books, mint_ , she continued to sniff.  _Medicine and—_

A familiar cool fragrance of a man made her heart skip a beat but she continued her observation. 

She debated whether it was in the early evening or dawn until she came to attention of the weight on her hand. It was warm and it clasped tightly that her curiosity jerked her eyes to open. 

It took seconds before her eyes well acquainted with the dark. The first thing she saw was a window that was lit from outside where the rain poured constantly and violently.

And soon after, she saw him sprawled next to her on the bed sleeping peacefully facing her and holding her hand close to his chest.

To Daenerys, he still appeared like a living photograph even in the poorest of light. Each motion of him looked like a photo worthy to be framed and hanged on the walls of Westeros National Museum.

He was the type of manly beauty that was flawed, seasoned and raw that Dany had seen in no one else.

She could stare at him all day or night or whatever time it was, she thought. But her eyes were too tired and so it drifted her back to sleep.

Along the hours she was asleep, her weary eyes barely open from time to time just to see Jon Snow. Sometimes he reads on the farthest corner of the room where an old couch was stationed. Sometimes he watches her sleep. Sometimes he holds her hand. But sometimes, he was nowhere and that was the worst.

Daenerys felt a sense of comfort when he was around. It was peculiar because she never thought it was possible to feel such solace with him yesterday— _or days ago?_ She wasn't sure how long she's been asleep and why the sudden affection for him but at present, somehow, she relaxed in his calm presence.

That was why she couldn't go back to sleep now because she was left alone again in an unfamiliar bedroom.

3:42 PM

She managed to get up with her elbows supporting her upper body weight. Her arms were too weak that it shook but she cared less as she pulled herself to sit and lean back on the headboard.

**_DRINK. YOU NEED TO_ **   
**_HYDRATE._ **

A note with a clean and precise handwriting was left on the bedside table with a glass of water.

Cupping her neck, the dryness of her throat came to her attention and gulped the liquid all the way down to relieve it.  _What happened to me?_ She needed answers after seeing the thin laceration with remnants of gangrene on her arm.

Much to her dismay of waiting, he hasn't returned to her room so she stood out of impatience and walked unstably towards the window and peeked through the curtains.

Her jaw dropped to see where they were. It was a rainforest lusher and greener Riverlands have ever been.

Tall trees with trunks covered with moss shadowed most of the vegetation below. It was beautiful. It seemed like a page ripped out of a book of fairytales.

A cow  _moo_ ed and she panned the view further to the side of the house where she found a white cow on its leash tied loosely on a tree's trunk and Jon Snow shirtless under the cold precipitation carrying a dead doe he probably hunted over his shoulder and lumber on the other.

After placing their uncooked dinner on the outdoor table, he brought each lumber on a stump bringing the axe down to split them in thinner quarters and then into halves for firewood.

It fascinated her how this sophisticated man with elegant taste was getting his hands dirty. But something about his activity came natural for him—as if he's been doing this ordinary provincial task his whole life.

Daenerys was in disbelief.

_____________________

He split another block of wood with one strong blow when he felt like someone was watching him and caught the sudden movement from the cottage.

The curtain from the bedroom window swung slightly and he assumed she was awake.

When he has finished cutting the meat from the doe in to thick slices for storage, he gathered up a bunch of firewood and carried it over his shoulder leaving his muddy boots by the entrance of the porch because he couldn't stand filth nor clutter.

Jon was the kind of guy who couldn't stay still. That explained why he had cleaned and sanitized the house all day after he read some of the studies written by the deceased owner of this cottage.

He was always curious that he needed answers from that same man which he saw in that dusty photograph he now sprayed with glass cleaner and rubbed till it shone.

And Daenerys was no different. Jon knew she had a lot of questions for him so he placed the wood on the porch and wore his borrowed white shirt on just in case she was waiting for him in the tiny and quaint living room.

But she wasn't there and he was excessively dripping wet on his newly cleaned floor so he tiptoed off to the bathroom to bathe after placing the meat in the fridge from the kitchen.

While in the shower, he could hear footsteps pacing back and forth outside the door.  _She's definitely not pleased about my inadequate performance of protecting her._

He turned the shower off, dried himself and wore another white shirt that was a bit tight on him and sweat pants that ended between his shins but he didn't mind. After all, it was a crannog man's clothing he borrowed.

Drying his hair with a towel, he opened the door to see Daenerys, hands on her hip, face furiously red.

"How did you get me into this?" Her thumb and index finger squeezed both her temples before she grumbled in Valyrian.

"What are you talking about?" Mazed, Jon tried to decipher her babbling.

"Into this!" She exclaimed when she held out the long skirt of the white laced nightdress as if she was about to curtsy but she dropped her arms back to her hips.

Jon raised his jaw slightly when he understood. He didn't expect that to be her first concern. "You were feverish and soaking wet so—so I took your clothes off—" he scratched his head and stammered in awkwardness. He didn't know how to explain it especially with her smoldering violet eyes judging everything that came out of his mouth.   
"It—it's not like I saw a thing—"

Offended by his unfinished statement, her arms crossed to her chest while her consciousness spiraled to insecurities.

Jon caught that twist of emotion from her after misinterpreting what he said. "I meant—it was dark and I swear I didn't touch you unnecessarily." He put his hands up in surrender and attempted to soothe her. "If there was enough light, it would've been—"  _irresistible._ But he stopped himself from total humiliation.

There was an awkward pause. It was unlikely of Jon Snow to stammer that way. To Daenerys, it resembled a dog walking on its hind legs.

It made her dizzy or was it just— _just what?_ "What happened to me?"

Jon headed straight to the kitchen in preparation for tonight's meal. It was too early but he hankered for something to do before he loses his sanity.  _The crash probably brought me down to size._ "Red shot you with wolfsbane but I injected you the antidote just in time."

"And where's Edd?" She held her breath in hopes that the newly turned father was far from harm.

"He's safe but he's not here." Taking the potatoes into the colander, he washed them in the sink.

She breathed. "Why? Why are we  _here_?"

"By accident. The car crashed and I found this cottage—well, the cow did but—" he paused from what he was doing and held the edge of the counter with a bewildering smirk. "I'm not making any sense."

"At least you've answered my questions this time." Daenerys couldn't deny the humor in seeing Jon Snow not as composed as he always had been. "And what happened to the readhead?"

His smirk disappeared and his irises turned a shade darker. "I shot her."

Dany's lips parted in surprise. She didn't know how to feel about his ruthlessness of killing her but the guilt in his eyes were apparent. "Oh. I'm sorry."

"You had nothing to do with it." He curved his lips for a second to mimic an assured smile.

"Did you know?"

"Yes, I knew she was going to betray me at some point." He went back to his potatoes and dicing them quickly like a pro.

"Why did she—?" Before she could finish her sentence, she reckoned going further is a touchy subject for Jon.

"Let's save those questions for tomorrow."

" _Tomorrow_? How long are we staying here?"

"When the storm is over." Jon stared out the window above the sink. The torrential downpour had only worsened.

"That explains it." Dany muttered in conclusion.

"This is not the storm. The storm is still on its way—possibly tomorrow. It ends three days after so we need to prepare and gather up food and fire." The worry and instinctual leadership was imminent in Jon's tone. Survival and resourceful tenacity was in his nature as a Stark. "It just usually rains in the Neck."

"We're in the  _Neck_?" Her tone mixed with surprise and disgust. She thought they were still in the Riverlands and the Neck is one of the places she's avoided in Westeros.

Jon considered her query as rhetoric and turned his concern about her health. "You should get some rest. I'll call you when the food's ready."

"You cook." She chuckled at the obvious proof in front of her as she stood behind him peeking at his speedy experienced hands with cutlery.

"You have a problem with that?" He was now extra aware of her presence lingering close behind him that got him struggling to concentrate.

Being so close to him she perceived the scent he'd been wearing is no cologne.  _It's just him._ The awareness got her woozy as his scent swooned her to the extent of her shaking legs faltering. "No."

"You should lie down before you—" These were one of those times when Jon swore he could predict any outcome because she collapsed in his arms once again. "Yup, that's what I was afraid of."

"What is happening to me?" Her limbs swayed lazily as Jon carried her towards the bedroom.

"You bit off more than you could chew, love, but you just need rest that's all." He stared at those half closed violet eyes falling to unconsciousness and shook his head. "I guess I'd have to feed you myself. After dinner, I'll treat your arm again."

"Thanks." Dany smiled meekly.

"It's the least I could do." Jon couldn't help but return the smile. It gave him the chance to look at her better now that she might not remember this part when she wakes. The color finally returned to her lips and cheeks and that relieved Jon. He almost thought he'd lost her for good.

"What's wrong with you?" Even in her fainting state, she had noticed the instability of Jon's right leg.

"Nothing." Jon laughed when he thought her question was about him staring at her. He barely felt the pain in his foot now.

She closed her eyes and breathed when Jon laid her softly on the bed and covered her with thick layers of blankets.

"Call me when you need me." He turned to the door.

"Jon?"  _Would you stay?_ She bit her lip from the stupid request and asked something else. "Could you turn the lights on?"

"Can't. The electricity's jammed. I'd have to rewire it early tomorrow before the thunderstorm starts." He leaned by the doorframe and watch her snuggle to a more comfortable position.

When her breathing evened in long and gradual breaths, he left her asleep and went back to the kitchen and continue cooking.

_____________________

"Who knew Jon Snow could make a decent stew?" She didn't hold back her astonishment as their faces were lit by candlelight.

" _Decent_?" He shut her up by feeding her a spoonful as he held the bowl and sat by the edge of the bed where she lay slightly leaned back on the headboard. "That's an insult."

"You could've been a famous chef or a restauranteur than a weapons manufacturer." She spoke mouthful and Jon almost gasped at how adorable she was. "People would gladly line up out the door in this weather for your stew alone."

"There are a lot of things I'm good at." He chuckled giving her that sly provocative Northern accent. "Let's just stick to that."

"And Edd told me  _you're_  humble!" She scoffed mockingly in laughter and crossed her arms.

He smiled again. Dany had never seen him smile that much that outer sides of his eyes creased.

"You confuse me, Jon." She blurted. "You give off a chance of a perfectly good life for criminality."

"Makes me more interesting and attractive, does it?" Another one of that brooding gorgeous expression appeared.

"You wish!" She blushed.

The red on her cheeks got him chuckling once more. "And you, what else are you good at besides teasingly amusing me?"

She opened her mouth for answer but closed it as she thought deeply. "I—I don't really have anything else outside my job, really. Day in, day out—it became my life."

"Not a single hobby or any activity you enjoy? Nothing?" He fed her again.

To answer his question, she shook her head as she chewed and swallowed.

"Well, we'll have to figure that one out."

She coughed, incredulous of what she just heard. " _We?_ "

"The best man for the job. Jon Snow, the hobbyist, at your service ma'am." He mocked a voice of a mundane commercial as he handed her a glass of water.

"That suits you better." She cleared her throat keeping the curve on her lips tamed. "Especially with your reading glasses on."

"Wha—" Jon never wore his round dorky glasses when anybody was there to see. He flushed, the blood scattering from his cheeks up to his forehead.

"I saw you use it, reading for hours." She laughed and caught him blush for the first time. To all honesty, Daenerys thought he looked good in it but didn't dare  admit while she is living. "What are those books about anyway?"

"The studies written by Howland Reed."

"Who's he?"

"A great scientist. One of my father's closest friends." He stared blankly with admiration and then back to her. "And he owns this cottage."

"Is he returning any time soon?"

"No. He died days after my father perished." His sad smile didn't meet his  lowered stormy eyes.

"Oh." She bit her lip apologetically.

"It's nothing." His voice was a bit cheerful now. It was a long time ago and the deaths in his family didn't sting as much as it did before and it also helped that he didn't want to ruin this moment with her.

"By the way, where were we headed before we crashed?"

"To Winterfell." He offered her another spoonful and she rejected it but Jon was persistent.

Daenerys straightened her posture as she swallowed quickly. "Why?"

"It's the closest place I know where an antidote for wolfsbane is stored." He said matter-of-factly like it was the best decision at the time.

"But wouldn't that get you caught, or worse—killed?" Her brows creased at his rashness to go just to save her life.

"That's probable." He laughed at the scheme of things—how he thought he was going to die and that didn't matter just to save her but now they were both fine after all.

But his ludicrous and dark humor stopped when Dany stretched her hand out to touch his cheek. "You're alright after all, Snow."

T O   B E   C O N T I N U E D . . .


	21. 19 | GREYWATER WATCH Part Two

_______12/07/16_______

"You're alright after all, Snow."

His head tilted to the side where her warm hand is and closed his eyes to blur out everything else apart from her touch. "Dance with me." He murmured.

"What?" The request took her aback. It sounded more of a silly command that a chuckle went past her pink lips.

"I saw how fond you were dancing to that outrageous song." His glossy lids opened to a softly lit pair of black irises. He placed his hand over hers. "This could be one of your many future hobbies."

She took her hand back and curled shyly. "I'm not really good at—"

"Dance with me." He was on his feet in a second, his eyes beckoning her to take his hand waiting for hers.

"There's no music, Jon." She hesitated, biting her lip from giggling. The butterflies on her tummy were on a rampage and it frightened her to the possibility of vomiting.

But Jon was insistent as he held her up when she finally gave in and hummed a tune of a popular old love song.

"This is silly." She chuckled, a bit anxious and uncomfortable at the close proximity when Jon placed her arms over his shoulder.

But he continued humming deeply to the soft gradual melody as he rested both hands on her tiny waist. The sensation made her shudder in smitten fascination.

Their smiles and laughs by the candlelight was mixed with coyness and innocence as they smoothly swayed from side to side.

It was just what they needed–drowning everything with awkwardness till there was nothing left but the song playing in their ear.

_Take my hand,_   
_Take my whole life, too._   
_For I can't help,_   
_Falling in love with you._

There was silence and it was satisfyingly calm as he pulled her close—his chin settling on her silver head which rested on his chest inhaling his cool scent.

They imaginatively conjured music playing in the background that Jon need not hum any further. It was quiet and simply beautiful.

"Jon?" She whispered on his chest.

"Hmm?"

"Why are you doing all this?"

He chuckled at the broad query. "Ask again."

"Fine." She grinned burying her face to his chest and thought of another. "Why would you risk your life for me?"

"Why do you have to ask that for?" He chuckled once more when he found her query absurd.

"You've been doing all these crazy things like kidnapping me, going on expeditions for a hundred year old sword, saving my life and now, dancing with me. What is it all for?" She mumbled feeling his heartbeat steady and calm as he always has been.

Pulling her arms from him to look her in the eyes, his expression was filled with amused annoyance. "For the nth time, it wasn't a kidnapping. And hasn't it been obvious that I like you, Daenerys? Very much so." His face softened into a sweet truthful smile.

Dany felt her heart stop. Well, it didn't. But she swore if it did, it felt that way. "But how? Why? We just met two years ago and it was disastrous."

"It wasn't a disaster. I kind of like it. And yes, yo _u_  met me two years ago." He smirked with the emphasis of singularity.

"What does that mean?" Her brows furrowed at his cryptic statement.

"You were eleven the first time I saw you. I was thirteen." He sat on edge of the bed now staring up at her as she stood between his knees.

"You saw me?"

"You we're the prettiest of course. But you we're also the kindest. And a tad clumsy at that." Jon drew a playful grin on his face as he held both of her hands. Calloused as it may be, he was always soft against her skin. "You wore a puffy red dress that made your eyes purple."

"You weren't in the socials. Nobody saw you." She bitterly remembered how completely curious she was of him when his brother kept convincing them he was there. Of course she was in denial before. But now that he told her he'd seen her, she was a little disappointed and speculative of what difference would it have made if they have met a decade ago.

"I was around." He mirrored her expression as if he himself has thought of that. But he was a craven for staying— "In the shadows and out of sight."

"Why?" Her inquisitiveness got her hands cradling his face. Her thumb padded on the scars of her doing under his right eye.

"I didn't belong there, dummy." Jon took her hands away before he swooned. She was irresistible and kind as he always knew she was.

"You do— _dummy_!" She mimicked him in disagreement to what he said which included the stupid nickname.

"A bastard like me dressed as an elite? No. I won't get out of there unscathed by their piercing eyes calling me a pretender. An outsider."

Dany could see this broken toy in front of her—this beautiful broken toy whom the world turned its back on and her heart sank. There was more to him why he chose a crooked path in life.  _The world made him this way_. "Well, if I knew that, I would've held your hand and danced with you eleven years ago and stick my tongue out at their ugly faces."

"If only I knew it was that easy I would have not resulted in stealing you away." His smile returned but deep inside he crumbled wishing his life would have been different if he was just brave enough to dance with her in the Red Keep in front of all those people.

"Gee, you think?" Dany giggled.

It was the eighth giggle since they met—Jon counted. "Good joke, though—holding my hand—. You're hilarious."

"Do I look like I'm joking? I would've done it. They wouldn't call me Stubborn Stormborn for nothing." She crossed her arms to her chest and jutted her chin like a child. And then her face hardened and drained the humor out. "You see, I didn't belong there, too. Seven Hells, I'm a daughter of a mobster."

"No. You were their princess. Westeros aristocracy was shaped by mobsters like your father." Jon's expression was apologetic mixed with admiration but his eyes lowered with a hint of grudge. "Hell, they shaped the world."

"And the world is in ruins." Her voice went cold and rigid.

In a split second, Jon stood abruptly and clasped her shoulders. His eyes glinted with kindred hope. "So you understand?"

"Understand what?" Dany was out of breath at his sudden change of mood.

"That the world would be better without  _them_?" He shook her slightly in desperation.

"Yes. And that includes  _you_ , remember?" She raised a brow but it did not affect Jon.

"Yes. Yes it does." He nodded enthusiastically.  _She understands._

"That's why I joined the Order of the Seven." She remarked.

Jon sat back down again letting go of her shoulders. "But what changes have they made, Daenerys? They haven't even caught me and I'm just a weapons manufacturer."

"Not just a weapons manufacturer—you are  _the_ weapons manufacturer." She corrected and cradled his face with her hands again, her face drowned with determination and optimism. "We need you, Jon. We need your intel so we could apprehend these criminal syndicates away. Help us."

He closed his deep stormy eyes and wavered from her proposition. "Even if I would, you and your Order wouldn't be capable of such undertaking."

"And why?" She challenged.

"Because it isn't just the mobs who are responsible for this wicked world." He pulled on his beard slightly, finding the words that best explain his protest. "I'm sure you've been to my fighting pits. You've seen men of the law share drinks with criminals like they're colleagues at the bureau. You are aware the men behind those chairs of state that rule this very country are feeding these mobs."

"Yes and we'll persecute them when we have foolproof evidence!"

"How, when the Order of the Seven is funded by one of those men?"

"Yes—but—." She stuttered and questioned her beliefs. "Are you saying the Order can't do anything?"

"Nothing at all." He confirmed with certainty. "But I can."

"What?" Her eyes widened.

"I can put an end to all the injustice." He spoke through his clenched jaw.

"But aren't you one of them?" She took a step back to have one good look at the Jon Snow in an effort to read him. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Where does your loyalty truly lie, Jon Snow?"

"You will know everything before long." He sighed as he raised his weight and pulled her closer by the back of her neck and kissed her forehead. "It's time for bed, love."

They locked their eyes for a minute or two as Jon rubbed her arms as if he was trying to warm her with the friction.

She was almost in absolute certainty that he'd kiss her when he slightly inched closer but he headed out the door instead bringing the candle and empty bowl with him.

"Where are you going?" She turned, almost enveloped in darkness. It felt cooler when he was now meters away from her.

"I'll sleep on the couch." He smirked like the way he does before as he scanned her from head to toe with his teasing dark eyes. "Goodnight, Daenerys."

She rolled her eyes. "It's Dany." Her tone was stern as she tried to hold that impassive expression when she offered something unaccustomed. "And we can share the bed."

"Tempting—but I'll see you in the morning." His eyes narrowed then his laughter filled the room when he caught her blush in embarrassment. "Dany."

And he disappeared taking the light with him.

T O   B E   C O N T I N U E D . . .

_____________________


	22. 20 | GREYWATER WATCH Part Three

_You are my sunshine,_   
_My only sunshine._   
_You make me happy,_   
_When skies are grey._

_You'll never know dear,_   
_How much I love you_   
_Please don't take my sunshine away._

The old song from a distant radio woke her up with a smile in the early morning drizzle. It didn't even take her long to process that Jon Snow has brought the power back in the cottage.

It troubled her though, not with repulsion, but with captivation how the more she knew of this notorious man, the more he disappointed her.

Because he was  _good_.

 _Edd was right._ In the depths of his dark brooding mask and behind the bad reputation he built, she now believed that there was hope for Jon Snow after all.

After last night, after that dance, after that confession about his frustrations and of where his intentions lie brought him to the light where Dany could see him clearly than before. He seemed more flawed, deeper and  _more human. Could he be more perfect than how he appears?_

She caught a glimpse of her reflection as she entered the bathroom. Her cheeks burned crimson red from the discovery that she was completely unaware she has been smiling the whole time.

It was humiliating for her proud self to be this smitten by a man she wasn't really fond of at the beginning. The sensation was too much that she yearned for an intake of the poisons from the next room in high dosage.

______________

"Good morning." He said huskily without batting an eye on the book he's been reading when she went out of the bathroom in cargo shorts and a white T-shirt.

Jon sat on the counter with a cup of coffee in his other hand —calmly controlled as he'd been that she was almost convinced what happened last night was a dream.

"Good morning." She walked towards the little kitchen in a controlled expression herself as she dried her hair with a towel and clutched the dog-eared books by arm. "You left these on the floor."

"Thank you." He reached for it with his signature teasing smile and placed the books on the counter. "Do you want to cook for breakfast?"

"That depends. Do you want to burn this place down?" She sat on one of the stools beside the counter with a wholly serious façade.

"Nonsense. Cooking is not rocket science. You can't be that bad." Jon chuckled, staring down at her very unusual choice of clothing. There were women's clothes belonging to Howland's wife that Jon had prepped for her but she probably preferred Howland's better.

"Oh, but I am." She flinched slightly as the lightning brightened the room and the thunder followed—booming in the skies.

The storm has come.

"Hasn't anyone told you that the way into a man's heart is through his stomach?" He sipped his cup again but never averted his eyes from her. There was another roar from the skies and he observed how she held her breath until it was over.

"I think you hit your head pretty hard in the crash to make you think I'm trying to win  _your_  heart." She smirked with a hint of disdainful humor on her tone. "And besides, there are better ways other than preparing a meal."

"Name a few." His eyes narrowed to another blinding flash of lightning that turned his irises the lightest of grey.

With all her might, she held her composure after that sight to the extent that got her ignoring the thunder that followed it. "Well, there's always option one, feeding your ego; option two, pleasuring you and option three—"

The curve of his lips widened.

"— _hold your hand_?"

A fleeting memory of her intertwining her fingers into his gave him warmth that put his hot black coffee to shame. "Touché."

Seeing him caught off guard and vulnerable got her convinced that last night did actually happen. She managed to smile through the storm's crescendo.

Swiftly, he slid down on to his feet and beckoned her to follow him out the door. "C'mon, I have something to show you."

But Dany froze at the notion of going out to the uninviting commotion outside. "Jon, the storm?"

"You're terrified?" He bit his lip and raised his brows in attempt to hold his laughter.

"Just a little bit." She admitted.

"How ironic—your codename is Stormborn and you're being a wuss in the sight of a  _little_ thunderstorm." He challenged while he put on his soiled combat boots.

"What did you just call me?" She half-whispered, eyes wild violet narrowing at Jon.

"A wuss?" Jon snickered.

In a haste of fury, she bolted out the door, lodged the gummy red boots on and treaded as fast as she could through the rain. The cold sticky wetland did not affect her light feet. He was impressed.

"You don't know where you're going candy-ass." He yelled after her with a still-collapsed umbrella in hand.

A burst of blinding light froze her to the ground and she turned towards him with a childish fear in her eyes. She sprinted for her life before the deafening thunder would metaphorically break her.

"I have come into conclusion that I love storms. It brings out the best in you." Jon bellylaughed after she launched herself towards him like a koala bear on a eucalyptus tree.

"Shut up." She spoke through his shirt, burying her face on his hard chest.

When she calmed, she glanced back at the decapitated tree from the lightning bolt and back at Jon's sardonic smile. "So you like this, huh? Me pressed against you this way?"

He now positioned her in a lover's carry and started marching heavily on mud while she canopied them with their giant black umbrella. "Don't distract me or we'll slip."

"Are you blushing?" She teased.

Jon's flush worsened in response. "Yes. Don't get me wrong. It's just an effect of carrying something too heavy." He faked a laborious sigh.

"Is that how you don't get laid, Jon? Telling girls they're fat?" Her lips pursed.

"I'm kidding. You are nowhere near fat, sweetheart." His eyes glimmered again under the distant faint light from the skies. "And if telling you you're skinny gets me laid, then—babe, you're skinny."

"You're such a perv." She moved the umbrella slightly so the rain would drench him just enough to get the point.

He closed his eyes and nodded. "Need I remind you that I'm not the peeping tom who sneaked into my room?"

"To be honest, I like what I saw." Her lips glowed into a sly smirk.

Jon returned the expression but brought it to an intense level. "Well then, you will love full frontal."

"No, you dumbass. Your  _room_. I like your room." She brought herself down from his clutches in mocking repugnance. "It's simple and clean."

"And undoubtedly you like the dumbass who sleeps in it, too?" He nudged her.

"We'll have to wait and see." She nudged him back.

"Here we are."

They stopped at a cave's mouth that mounted under a giant sycamore tree. It wasn't as welcoming as the caves back in Dragonstone with only sea water and tiny red crabs that linger on its burrow.

"This is it?" She asked and swallowed the lump in her throat in an attempt to belittle the darkness beyond its rough and moist uncharted walls. "What are we doing here?"

"Spelunking." He hung his backpack on a nearby branch and pulled out two flashlights and handed one to her. "This better make it to your list. It's one of my top favorite hobbies."

"It's Rhaegar's, too." Dany bit her lip.

His eyes lowered at the sound of his name spoken by someone else other than the voice in his head.

They slowly entered in a downslope of naturally formed rugged steps that were passable as stairs.

"So you've been to this cave?" Her voice echoed and amplified while the thunders were almost muted when they reached the bottom most underpass.

"Just yesterday—when I was hunting that delicious doe you ate last night."

There were no other sounds apart from their voices and drips of fluid from the stalactites.

Her light flashed to the dark corners of the cave just to assure her that no monster was popping out of it at any second.

Spelunking in a pitch black cave hadn't been part of her training. It was a new environment for her. And the inability to see his calm handsome face made it more uncomfortable. "Weren't you scared?"

"Scared of what?" He held her hand to guide her through an unsteady underground stream that seemed to faintly glow in an odd bluish undertone.

"Entering an unknown cave and might not be able to come out of it ever again?"

"As long as it's not Catelyn Stark, I'm good." Jon mused and added, "But if it was you, though, I'd love to be stuck on you."

Dany felt her heartbeat escalating and skin warming under its cold rain-drenched surface. She still haven't gotten used to how much of a smooth talker he was.

"You're blushing." Jon's tone had no hint of uncertainty as he snickered and tightened his grasp on her hand.

"Don't tell me seeing through the dark is also one of your various talents. In that case, we don't need flashlights." She pointed the white ray to his face.

He broke a stalagmite in the process of losing his balance, covering his eyes from the light and laughing boisterously as it illuminated her flushed cheeks briefly. "No. I just happen to sense when someone's got a big crush on me."

It had her heart swelling with mortification and giddiness.  _Am I that obvious?_ "Well, aren't you snooty?"

He covered her eyes with his hands and motioned her to walk forward and she allowed him until he whispered. "Not if it's true."

Dany snatched his fingers from her eyes immediately but her mouth slacked open when she saw what he's been wanting her to see. "Wow. They look like stars!"

"You haven't seen glow worms before?"

"Never in my life." She blinked in astonishment but averted her eyes awhile after. "Rhaegar once told me about it, though. He had supposed to take me but—"

"But what?"

"He died the day before." Her eyes fell briefly on Jon who was frowning like her but with a cryptic knowing expression.

"I'm sorry." He didn't meet her gaze, brooding once again as if he was lost in his thoughts.

"Don't worry about it. I avenged him and to be honest, it felt good." She smiled, in an effort to lighten the mood with a morbid joke. But he was somewhere else entirely. "Jon?"

"Sorry, a thought came to mind." He scratched the back of his head and pulled a picnic blanket from his backpack and spread it on the dry flat bedrock.

"What is it?" She queried, not letting his odd demeanor pass.

"Wouldn't it be fantastic if you could see the stars as bright as these?" He said in an off lively tone.

"Definitely." Dany didn't push him to spill what troubled his mind and focused on the bluish white wonderment in front of  them. "You won't see a single star in the city of Kings Landing unless the light pollution is dealt with."

"Exactly." He nodded, still off-key.

Without warning, her stomach grumbled and echoed through the tunnel. She awaited helplessly for his playfully vexing remarks but to her surprise, he offered her the leftover stew from last night, blueberries and a bag of chips.

"You brought food?"

"Why are you so surprised? If we get stuck here, at least we won't starve for a day or two before I eat you." He plopped a berry and chewed on it twice then bit on another.

"This just seems like a date now." She stared at the food, exerting to forcibly keep her cheeks from burning.

"With the few resources we have, it won't match to the standard date Jon Snow can offer, love." He leaned back on a wall of solid rock whilst staring at her through the corner of his eyes. Her blue illuminated skin and her plump lips brought him inappropriate thoughts.

"And what is your standard date?" She scooted closer.

"Any regular date but with the best bottle of champagne." He said matter-of-factly, watching her in his periphery.

"Makes sense."

"All we have is beer. Howland Reed apparently does not drink fancy or he just hid his stash exceptionally well."

"It will do." She grabbed a can and heard the satisfying fizzing sound when she opened it. "I read some of his books earlier. It's amazing and horrifying to know more about our world's atmospheric changes."

"Truly. And that ten years from now, more or less, this sight could all be gone." His expression darkened.

"You believe his theories?" She sighed after a swig and laid back beside him.

He cleared his throat and inched closer that their shoulders touch. "Tell you what, let's enjoy this while it lasts."

"Couldn't agree more." Casually putting her head on his shoulder, she bit her lip with a query in mind. "Jon?"

"Yes?"

"Did you love her?"

"Who? Red?"

She nodded.

"Yes."

"It must've been hard for you." She bent forward and gaped into his eyes. The sadness in it was unmistakable.

"It was."

"But if she loved you, too, then, why did she do such a thing?" Her brows furrowed in confusion.

"Do what?" His gaze fell on her briefly before he knew what she meant.

"Betray you like that."

"Because I told her my heart was set for another." He couldn't meet Dany's eyes after he had professed his unrequited feelings to her multiple times already. It just seemed pitiful to him now. "Red didn't take it well."

"You led her on?" Her brows raised by no accusation whatsoever. She just wanted to know.

"I thought I wasn't. I told her what she's getting herself into from the very beginning."

"She hoped you'd change your mind." She has drawn a stipulation to Ygritte's actions.

"I guess. But it was my fault. I am selfish and ambitious to think I—I even have a shot to be yours." He stammered this time.  _How could I be more pathetic?_

"Why?"

 _Why does she have to rub it in?_ The bottled emotion raised his voice that was etched by anger and desperation. "Because I'm a bad man, Dany. I'm unclean."

"You still think being a bastard defines who you are, Jon? That you had to live up to that label?" She matched that deep Northern accent with her voice stricken with both authority and compassion. "It's your father's shame. Not yours."

"But I am the product of that shame." He countered angrily. "Anything I touch is marred by society."

"That's not true!" She knelt in front of him, cradling his face with her palms to level their eyes. "In all honesty, any girl, highborn or lowborn, would be so lucky to be loved by Jon Stark."

"And what about Jon  _Snow_?" His lips quivered caused by her sudden unexpected approximation.

"They can't have Snow." She moved a lock of hair from his eyes and rested her hands on his shoulders.

"Why? Because I'm—" his protests were silenced when she finished his sentence.

"—because somebody's heart is already set for him!"

He was still clueless or has refused to believe what he's hearing. "Who's?"

Dany's forehead creased, eyes slowly drilling a hole to his as if in a plea for him to understand. She let the distance between them close when the tips of their noses touched. "Mine."

Jon was petrified by a single word. A single word that would take millions of brain cells for him to process and register such possessive remark had his heart bursting at the seams and he couldn't react from it in the surface because he was frozen under her touch.

Longing from last night's chance of a should-be kiss, she pressed her lips against his. It was soft and passionate —a polar opposite from their first kiss back in Storm's End. His breath was feverish and his lips were cool that made her pulse quicken and her breaths ragged.

It was hard to tell if this was real—the reason why he's hesitant at first. Jon couldn't see her clearly in the dark but he'd take this reverie any day. She appeared like a constellation of a goddess in the night and Jon was sure the gods are raging as the storm outside did. His strong arms wrapped around her tightly that it got her straddling on his lap, chest to chest.

Her fingers wandered through his hair and her lips slowly parted for his that tasted like blueberry and ale. It was delicious that Dany let out a breathless moan of pleasure and felt Jon smile against her. She bit his lower lip in response.

He couldn't keep his lips from curving as he tucked a lock of silver hair behind her ear. "You taste as sweet as I remember. Or is it just the sedative you used to knock me unconscious and this is your second attempt."

"It wouldn't work on you anyway." She giggled and buried her face on his warm neck. She never felt more peaceful.

He traced thin lines on her spine. "I think it did. This doesn't feel real at all. Maybe I need one more kiss to be fully convinced."

"Don't get greedy, Jon Snow." Her palms propped up to support her in seeing his gawking expression.

"I can't help it." He shook his head. "Is this a sick joke? Are you pulling a sadistic prank on me?"

"I like you, okay?" Their foreheads touched and her cheeks stained red. "It's been so difficult to fight it now that I'm in too deep."

This time, Jon reached for her lips with his own. He couldn't believe it. A bastard's heart was now in possession of this small ethereal goddess with sweet lips and hypnotic eyes?

But his thoughts were scrambling from what she just said:  _I'm in too deep._ She had no idea she was nowhere near the deep end and it seemed to him like he owed her the truth or at least part of it. "Has somebody brought my name up in your household?"

"Not that I remember of." She sat up with raised brows of bewilderment. "Why?"

"There is something you need to know." His stare was solemn and reluctant.

"About what?" She padded a thumb to his scarred cheek and her heartbeat went berserk again from anticipation.

"Of why I stole you." Hesitant, he bit his lip and whispered. "Would you believe me if I knew your brother?"

By the looks of his expression, she knew it wasn't Viserys he was talking about.

_______2005_______

"Are you stalking my sister?"

Jon froze when the man in full black suit and silver hair opened the dusty broom closet with his surveillance toy car torn down and broken by bits. The cracked camera lens hung on a thin trifle wire.

"No." He immaturely denied but his tablet showed a photo of the the little girl.

"Do you like her?"

Jon cheeks betrayed him when he blushed like the boy he was.

"Do you have the slightest idea who I am?" The man towered over him like a skyscraper.

Nevertheless, Jon stood tall, reflecting the man's deep voice. "Yes, I'm quite informed who you are, Rhaegar Targaryen."

That made the Dragon Prince smirk. "And what's your name, boy?"

"Jon—Stark." He hated his last name and the shame that gave him when they recognized him for who he was.

"You have quite the spirit for a—"

"Bastard?" He spoke through his teeth.

"—a young lad. Rapacious just like your father." He grabbed the tablet from him and broke it easily in half with his hands. "Meet me tomorrow morning at the Isle of Faces."

It didn't matter to Jon, he could repair it or produce another one in a day. What mattered was the Dragon Prince's invitation. "I have my jujitsu class tomorrow."

"Are you scared of me Stark?"

"No!" He responded, taking the question as an insult to his bravery.

"Then I'm sure you can find a way out of class." He turned and left the door open. "You're a smart boy."

_____________

"Why are we here?" Young Jon interjected when they met in the Isle of Faces which was an expensive two-hour train ride from Winterfell.

"You'll have to fight me and win my approval before you present yourself to Daenerys."

Jon's eyes widened at the offer because he never considered meeting Daenerys. He was brave but a craven when it comes to the borderline of disrupting aristocrats' lives since he was a bastard. But this was once in a lifetime chance and he couldn't let this pass. He was just thirteen and haven't even completed his jujitsu training yet but it will have to do. "Fine," he put his fists in front of him.

"Not now, boy. You really are your father's son, aren't you?" Rhaegar's laugh awakened the quiet Isle. "I'd have to train you first."

"Train me? But Ser Cassel said you only train one of us by your own choosing."

"That's right. And I choose you."

"Why me?" He stepped back in surprise. His brother would have jumped in happiness if he was in his place but Jon felt inadequate and underserving. "I am a nobody. You should train Robb. He's the heir to Winterfell."

"You speak so lowly of yourself, Jon. But all I see is a young wolf who plan to die just then for a girl he doesn't even know." He patted on his tiny shoulders. "Some would call it stupidity but I wouldn't mind if it was my sister you were fighting for."

"So what?" He repelled Rhaegar's hand away.

"To more relevant matters, we meet here everyday from five to seven o' clock."

"But—"

"Do you want me to train you?"

"Yes, it would be an honor—"

"Then, no more buts. And you cannot speak of this to anyone, understood?" He squatted down so he could search the boy's deep dark irises.

"Yes." He nodded.

"Where are your Northern manners?"

"Yes, ser."

"Good." He ruffled his curly hair but Jon pushed him away and ran.

_______12/08/16_______

A stinging slap to the face stopped him from story telling. Tears flooded her eyes and stained her cheeks. "He never told me about you."

"We kept it to ourselves. Nobody else knew he trained me."

"But he was willing to sell me off just like Viserys as if it's some kind of game?!" She sobbed and Jon grabbed her and hugged her hoping her pain dwindles away.

"It wasn't until he had almost broken every bone in my body that I realized why he'd chosen me. It always confused me why, until I summed up that everything he'd done was all for you, Dany—for me to protect you because he knew he won't always be around.

He loves you."

_______2010_______

"This is our last session, Jon. Do you know what that means?"

"I have to defeat you." The Dragon Prince's protégé smirked. It has been years since he waited for his teacher to decide if he was ready.

Apparently he humorously insisted that the final test was his " _gift_ " for Jon's eighteenth birthday. 

It worried Jon for a second what his father and brother would say when he arrived home, beaten to death—win or lose— but shrugged it off.

They'd assume he came from a regular match in the fighting pits. What mattered was he got out alive. They didn't really worry since it was his excuse for the past five years and he never lost a match.

"I assume you're ready?" Rhaegar twisted his neck from side to side.

"Since the day you brought me here."

And they began. There were no shortcuts of hasty tackles because they both knew a single mistake could be their downfall. So the match lasted for hours based on endurance and the ability to absorb hard punches and crippling kicks that were brought to each other strategically.

Amidst blood, sweat and pain, they continued. Fighting Rhaegar didn't only need strength and endurance; it also needed cunning intelligence in analyzing his attacks and defenses.

For five years of training, Rhaegar's techniques were still ambiguous to him — hitting punch after punch fluidly in different fighting styles. Like speaking different languages with each word, he can't be decoded easily.

But Jon was smart. He knew that in order to win, he need not follow Rhaegar's style. All he needed was a single set of punches that the Dragon Prince once commented as the "Ender."

So he absorbed every stupefying and piercing attacks the man could give and studied his defenses. There had to be a loophole somewhere he could penetrate.

In minutes, he felt Rhaegar's exhaustion from exerting the strikes he absorbed excruciatingly.

"Man, I'm trying to knock a tree down with my bare hands."

"I'm stopping a jet from plummeting straight at me repeatedly."

They both laughed and panted but as if on cue, they straightened up in their individual fighting stance again.

In that last few minutes of tousle, Jon had the feeling he'd lose if he went with this masochistic scheme any further.

The ligaments in his thigh were almost torn to shreds that he needed to risk it once and for all. He waited for another attack and to his luck, Rhaegar was slacking restlessly from punch to punch but that didn't decrease its intensity at all. He was just a split second slower than before.

Blocking and evading as much as he could, he realized that if he took in the upcoming punch to his jaw, he might just have the chance to take him out.

So he did. And Rhaegar's punch was awfully numbing that he couldn't feel his arms anymore. But Jon gathered every ounce of strength left in him and punched back with his left hook straight to his face followed by a jab on his right and an elbow to his nose.

He could see him dazed as if he was having an out of body experience and that was the moment he tackled him.

Rhaegar tapped out laughing.

Jon dropped to the floor and both of them laid heaving in dire exhaustion.

"You have proven yourself worthy, Jon Stark."

"I have a great teacher." Because Rhaegar was. Anything he did was exceptional and Jon was so thankful he chose him even if he still believed he didn't deserve it.

"Indubitably." Rhaegar agreed. "This was the best fight I had so far."

"A fight where you lost?"

"It's very rare Jon and I treasure losing."

Jon wasn't sure if he was being cocky or he really meant it. Rhaegar was just one of those people who spoke words that you don't get to hear very often. "You're  _weird_."

He laughed in no disagreement while he tried to stop his nose from bleeding. They both were—bleeding—but Jon didn't want to clean up just yet.

Unlike him, Rhaegar had other plans for the rest of the day. "Now I have to go. I have to see Robert Baratheon and deal with him."

"Kill him?"

"No. You see Jon, some matters can be solved without bloodshed." He patted his shin and got up. He had this hopeful influential smile that brightened up the place. "This is a reckoning. The Dragon Mob will cease to exist and we shall celebrate it tomorrow with Dany when I introduce you to her. Promise me you'll be her friend. Protect her at all times."

" _Friend_?" Jon propped up with his elbows, perplexed and a little disappointed from being cheated on.

"Have I promised you more?"

"I thought—" he stopped himself and it was true. He hadn't promised more. Being a friend was the extent he could possibly be to her.

"I do not hold my sister's heart, Jon." He explained because it wasn't up to him. He may think Jon is worthy but he still have to win her heart. "Maybe you could find Visenya's sword and she'll consider going out on a date with you."

_______12/08/16_______

"That was a joke, Jon." She interrupted and was now chuckling like it was an inside joke between her and Rhaegar.

"I can never tell if he was being serious or not." He tsk-ed but there was no regret behind it.

"Thank you for sharing me that memory, Jon." Another tear escaped her eye and stained on his white. "I miss him."

"Me too."

A sad whimper escaped her mouth. "So that's the story of how we never met, huh?"

"Truly. I tried to forget everything when he passed and you ran away. Some even swore they saw you jump off a cliff with waves so violent that your body was lost at sea. I felt sick and detached to my emotions that it led me to declaring oneself in servitude of the Wall. Father was furious and that was the first time I saw Lady Stark smile at me."

"That's horrible." She mumbled, her lips on the skin between his neck and shoulder.

He chuckled as the zing of electricity jolted up his spine. "It's messed up, really. But at the same time, fate happened. Months on the Wall, I was sent to lead a hostile expedition to dig intel on wildlings. I have tortured and killed them. I was bloodthirsty until I got captured by Mance Rayder's tribe for six months and slowly I began to realize that everything that the Wall had stood for was a lie and it sickened me. It stood for nothing but greed and discrimination. When I came back with a newfound purpose and determination to break it, my father was murdered and the rest was history."

"Jon, I'm sorry." She fisted the loose fabric on his shirt, hurting from the thought of what could've been if Rhaegar wasn't murdered. "You've been through too much. If only—"

"If only, what?" He cupped her small radiant face touched with blue will-o'-the-wisps. "Dany, there was nothing we could do. I even believed the Gods were against us but when you showed up at Storm's End, I almost lost it. You changed the game."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was going to, until you seduced me and drugged me. It angered me but at the same time, I was so amused of how you fought like Rhaegar." The memory got him smiling lightly.

"He trained me."

"I know." Rhaegar had always been talking about how much work he put to protect his little sister and how much he adored her. She was always the topic of conversation and Jon didn't mind at all. His infatuation only seemed to inflate his heart that he couldn't breath anymore because it took up space from his lungs where oxygen would've occupied.

"But why did you let me go?" She asked, remembering his little speech of:  _take her but you cannot take me._

"I needed Dark Sister before I could take you remember?" He smirked at how hopelessly romantic he could get but Dany didn't seem to share the ludicrousness behind it.

"Jon, I don't know what to say." Her eyes lowered to his chest. It still hurt her how much she mattered to him but didn't have any idea of it all. If she only knew—

"You don't have to say a thing." He smiled apologetically. Hurting her was the last thing he wanted. "It was a privilege to have met you and your brother."

"I know we're amazing." She pouted and couldn't resist knowing more about Jon's life. "Tell me what happened after."

"When I got back, I wanted to avenge him. I had two targets. Robert Baratheon and The Old Ghiscari Empire. But you're the one who killed the murderer after all."

"Why the Old Ghis?"

"You see, Robert Baratheon used a petty weapon manufactured by them to murder Rhaegar. Can you imagine the best warrior in Westeros was killed by a gunshot? It was preposterous. He deserved an epic death if he had to die. So I wanted to destroy their empire."

"So you put them to shame and out of business when you started Nightswatch Enterprises?"

"Yes."

"Jon, is that the sole reason why you manufacture weapons?"

"Not entirely."

"So why?" She pried.

"I can't have you know all my secrets. You might just lose interest in me when there's no mystery behind me anymore." His brooding and mysterious veil of an expression sent her stunned. He was gorgeous.

She rolled her eyes and insisted. "Jon."

"I'll tell you in time. Now we have to go. The storm's probably tamed a bit by now."

T O B E C O N T I N U E D . . .

__________________


	23. 21 | GREYWATER WATCH Part Four

_______12/10/16_______

4:42 PM

It was at the hour before twilight as the thunders roared in the skies and flashes of lightning were blindingly close that electricity whizzed through the violent winds of Greywater Watch. The earth seemed to dissolve easily with the torrent that the ground resulted into an infernal quagmire— a cold sticky gunk of dirt and all the bacteria that came with it.

But Jon couldn't care one bit trudging through the bog where the electric circuit post was because he was in a hellhole of angst himself against Daenerys.

Oh he thought she understood and that they'd finally end up together and start this new world he had envisioned.

But no, she was solidly against him now and possibly lost her feelings for him — complete with flying and breaking glasswares to the walls which spoke a thousand exclamations of disagreement.

But days ago it wasn't like that between them. Days ago, they were perfect.

Amidst the ongoing storm, Jon had been consistently making sure they had a good time in the comfort of their shabby cottage. But things weren't as smooth as he thought.

When he forced her to cook them a good meal, it turned out to be disastrous as she nearly torched half of the kitchen.

Their bad luck didn't stop there. They ran out of meat to cook since she scorched everything. Dany suggested they could slaughter the white cow but Jon opposed to that idea profusely. So they were left with berries and ale for breakfast which wasn't as bad as they thought.

In fact, not one thing seemed bad. Everything was lighter and sweeter than before even if they were stuck in an abandoned cottage in the middle of nowhere where a violent storm surged upon them and they're running out of sustenance.

Their empty stomachs didn't concern them either cause they were so full on each other with stolen kisses, chases, crushing hugs, infectious laughter and hot coffee.

It was going great until this day had come. It came sooner than he thought.

For a productive distraction, Jon climbed the electric circuit post and opened the latch to see where the problem was. The power was cut since this morning.

______________

5:57 AM

There were soft tiny beeps resonating through the heavy downpour and thunders that no longer bothered Daenerys.

She woke up with a euphoric heart. Somehow it expanded that tightened her chest a bit with unstrained mellow elation.

His gradual breaths and steady heartbeat got her lingering in the momentary pure bliss.

She watched him sleep. He looked as peaceful as the first snowfall on a sunrise. His lips were provocative and his thick black lashes fanned his deep-set eyes.

After all he had been through, Daenerys was surprised he didn't become a monster.

 _He is a good man._ She concluded even if he still had a truckload of history to tell of why has he really became who he was.

 _I can't have you know all my secrets. You might just lose interest in me when there's no mystery behind me anymore_.

That made her shake her head in disagreement but still careful not to wake him up.

How could she lose interest in him when the more she knew about his past, the more she was drawn to him. The more she felt closer to know that somehow they were connected —as if they were bound to be orbiting on each other. That they were destined to meet for something significant but barely caught a glimpse of what it means yet.

Jon shuffled on the sofa slightly pulling her head close to his chest and his leg over her thighs.

She willingly got him wrapped around her and she grinned in his warmth, nuzzling his scent and memorizing how this temporary solace felt.

It got her reminiscing what happened last night when they said their drunken goodnights and separated by the doorsill of her bedroom. The separation didn't even last another minute when she huddled over him on the couch and they slept together soundly.

Another soft beep from a sleek black phone brought her back to reality. The sound was coming from under his pillow.

She hesitated a bit but grabbed it so she could disable the sound but to her dismay, she couldn't silence it when locked.

Dany bit her lip and debated on whether she'll endure the beeping and ruin their moment or just unlock it through his fingerprint sensor.

But Daenerys Targaryen does not take no for an answer and never settles for anything less.

In her three years of serving the Order of the Seven, this was the easiest thing she has ever done. 

But before she could enjoy the quiet time with Jon and his heartbeat and his breathing and his scent and the sound of the pouring rain in the background, she gasped when her little bubble of happiness popped.

The palm sized screen showed a map of Westeros and Essos with red blinking dots strategically placed in each city.

WARHEAD DETONATION    
COUNTDOWN   
**126 hrs 41 mins**

STATUS:

Missile Installation — COMPLETE  
Target Positioning — COMPLETE  
Satellite Synchronization — COMPLETE

Full Destruction — 0%

Alarmed, she lost her balance and both of them fell on the floor with a heavy thud.

Jon was awakened to the sudden ruckus. He blinked multiple times till the image before him cleared. It felt like his insides were coming out of his throat when he saw her crawling away from him and hugging her knees in the corner. Her expression filled with fear, disgust and anguish.

When he was about to reach out to her,  his palm pressed on a hard smooth object on the floor. It was his mobile phone showing the status of his plan and it seemed as if the earth was crumbling beneath him and just about to swallow him whole.

________________

He knew from the moment he explained his and his father's plans to Dany, he will lose her. She didn't even let him finish. Her eyes said too much.

 _"You are willing to risk millions of lives for a theory? You are an abomination!"_ He remembered her words like the searing wound submerged in vinegar.

_"It is not just a theory. I have studied our world and it is dying, Daenerys. If we allow it, it will take us down with it. So my answer is yes I am willing to risk millions of lives for it."_

It was true. But it all started as a speculation.

**The First Men have prophesied that the world would have its end and human extinction along with it. Their legends spoke of the long cold darkness that would obliterate all life forms.**

Eddard Stark adored these legends but shrugged it off until he came across the the odd changes of the planet's natural activities. Unusual phenomenons such as deadly storms, vicious winters, blistering summers, earthquakes and so on. Not to mention illnesses sputtering like birthing rabbits on mating season and animal extinction.

He was obsessed and studied with Howland Reed to observe the planet's physical activity. To his surprise, it has escalated significantly due to the very root cause of it all— the growing population of their planet.

In comparison and as a metaphorical basis, he had studied a greyscale virus's ability to multiply exponentially. The virus doubled its number thoroughly in the victim's body by the last minute of the clock. And it paralleled to the behavior of the increasing human population, too. " _We are nothing but parasites and we need to stop our numbers from growing before our host planet will die and so would be our fate."_

Jon had seen it through his computer—how the world would be in the next decade. There wouldn't be cold darkness as the First Men had believed to be the "Long Night." There will be hell.

He had observed a significant increase in temperature. That was why the Land of Always Winter—known by its frigidity as unsuitable for the living—was now domesticated as his home.

But the significant increase of temperature in ten years wouldn't be as forgiving anymore as the planet's core would burst into specks of asteroids and dust to the galaxy like a ticking timebomb detonated.

**The First Men also had believed that upon humanity's claim of freedom, chaos must follow. And only by chaos, peace is restored and the planet shall live again.**

One perfect example of that concept was Aegon's Conquest. As he brought chaos, he had obliterated millions of lives through the Field of Fire and multiple wars that reduced the population. This bought the planet a time to heal. He had forged the seven kingdoms and peace was restored.

So the days Jon spent of being in his father's office, they had planned this thoroughly and came into conclusion.

There must be chaos that follows to restore peace again. They must create another Field of Fire. But this time, more selective.

 _"Stop playing God, Jon."_ She spoke through her teeth with no ounce of affection towards him but hatred.

 _"If no one will, our world will end. I have put matters into my own hands to wipe out millions of criminals to save the lives of the innocents."_ Jon couldn't remember his tone when he explained but it was apparent that he was utterly defensive of his morals.  _Is it merciless of him to massacre merciless men?_

Lord Eddard Stark was not new to the injustices the world has hidden from the majority of the population. He himself had been one of them until he garnered the apocalyptic knowledge and gathered his trusted men in an interposition of criminality. But he didn't present his son to his men. Ned kept Jon Snow in the dark as his backup plan.

Their words were: "for the chaos that follows" because anything they do, it must be for that sole purpose.

But it wasn't a happy ending like any other plan. They were betrayed by one of his men—Roose Bolton. He was a conniver and was hooked on the life of criminality than peace. One by one, he surreptitiously schemed their deaths through alliances with mobsters and believed Eddard Stark's Chaos Crusade died with him. But he was mistaken.

_"Provoking a war within themselves is the best plan. That's why I've planted missiles in every base of criminal syndicates and aim at each other without their knowledge. A Dragon warhead would plummet on the Tyrell's hideouts resulting their survivors to vengefully attack the Dragon Mob with the lethal weapons I have supplied them and vise versa."_

_"Who are you to decide who dies and who lives? Some of those men are just following orders!"_  Her eyes were bloodshot and her words sting worse than the crowd in the Red Keep. What she said was true. He had considered this but if no one would take action, who will?  _"These are fathers and sons!"_

" _My father died under the hands of men who are just following orders! So did your brother. People die everyday because of them."_

_"But thousands of casualties—"_

_"Are collateral damage."_ He slammed his fists on the table and thunders roared with him.  _"You cannot convince me, Daenerys. I have thought this through at every angle. This is humanity's last chance."_

 _"How could you sleep at night when you're orchestrating a massacre?"_ Her lips were full of judgement and Jon was  about to have a seizure from hearing it.

That's when the lights went off with a few flickers until it died down completely.

 _"Because I'm doing the right thing."_  He controlled his sob in the darkness from bursting out. It was his obligation to comply to his father's orders from the day he chose him. Not Robb. For the first time in his life, his father chose him.

_"There are other ways, Jon. Rhaegar—"_

_"Rhaegar what? He told me there was no need for bloodshed and yet he got murdered by one of your father's men."_ He remembered the agony he felt when Rhaegar died. He never had the chance to thank him because of how this sick system operates—the rich ruled no matter how they acquired their wealth.  _"Tell me, Daenerys. What are the other ways when we got so little time? The world cannot regenerate by itself. The closer we get to the deadline, our planet loses its ability to heal."_

 _I won't let you do this."_ Determination was written all over her eyes.

 _"So your beloved Dragon Mob will be spared?"_ It was low for Jon to say that, he admitted. But what is needed to be said had to be said.  _"This is a reclamation Daenerys. It is time."_

 _"Where are you going?"_ She screamed in fury when he turned his back on her.

_"I need to fix the electric circuit."_

_"During a storm?"_

_"That didn't stop me before."_ He turned the knob and slammed the door behind him after he pushed her away with words:  _"When I come back, I don't expect to see you here. You can go home to your Dragon King if you wish."_ He regretted that it went past his lips like bullets. How could he push her away when all that he ever wanted was to hold her and for her to accept him for who he was? A monster.

And that was how he got himself tweaking on high voltage circuits in the middle of the storm—partly asking for a death wish.

Coincidently, lightning struck and it was all too sudden that he barely reacted to it. He just saw the light flash before his eyes and he fell fifteen feet on the pavement.

Sparks flew above him and half of the post was descending towards him as if death was unsuccessful in killing him with lightning the first time and had to find another attempt to do it again.

But he rolled over to the muck evading the heavy metal tube that could've pounded him flat.

He groaned in pain from the fall and was glad that the lightning didn't hit the circuits or he would have bursted into a pink mist in the air.

Slowly regaining his balance, he walked back to the cottage to change because he was covered in mud. But really, he just wanted to know if Daenerys has stayed behind.

He was a man in love and he couldn't deny that now. It wasn't the lightning that made him realize that. It was the post dropping towards him because in those final milliseconds, all he could think about was her.

Walking back, he took his now soiled Tshirt off and let the rain wash him a bit.

As he emerged through a thicket of trees, it shocked him when he saw her standing meters outside of the cottage and his heart ached.

Her plain white dress went transparent as the rain deluded its opacity. Jon could see everything and she was beautiful. The worried crease on her forehead, her silver hair tangled and wet, the parting of her pink delicious lips, the heaving of her chest from running and sludge of mud on her small pale feet.

"You're alive." She breathed in relief.

"Why wouldn't I be?" He uttered softly, expressionless.

"Jon, please." She begged.

"I'm sorry but I have to do this." His voice was breaking at the sight of her pleading.

"Stop this and just be with me." It was hard to tell if she was crying as the rain drenched her completely. The only evidence was her red rimmed eyes.

"I'm sorry, Dany. I can't be the guy you want me to be." His eyes lowered in the familiar inadequacy and shame of being Jon Stark.

"But you're born to be a hero." Her stance was weak but showed encouragement.

His eyes finally met hers. "This world needs a monster."

"Is fate pulling us apart  _again_  now that I have fallen for you?" She raised her arms to her sides questioningly now that she felt how he felt.

"That's how sick it has been and will always be." The curve of his lips didn't meet his eyes as he smirked defeatedly. It was time to accept it so he turned his back from her.

"Hey, don't you walk away from me!" She followed him in giant angry stomps  of ire.

He kept his pace and didn't turn back in the hopes that she'll give up eventually. Nothing could stop him from—

"Bastard!"

He froze.

Out of breath and crumbling down, she threw a pebble to his back for emphasis. "You lost me once, don't you dare lose me again!"

"Fuck this shit!" Jon let his instincts take control when he closed the distance between them and taking her face instantly to his. His thumb stained her face with mud and she never looked sexier.

Her eyes were filled with unshed tears as he realized she has been worried sick for him. It tightened his chest of stinging pain and warmness. 

Immediately, her sweet lips parted for him. Her fingers trailed from his bare chest to his curls pulling him even closer as possible.

She tiptoed with difficulty as the mud squashed her toes deeper but as if Jon read her mind, he lifted her up by her waist.

The torrential downpour worsened and they couldn't breath but it didn't stop them. Her white dress seemed to vanish as it got damp even more.

His strong arms held her awkwardly that she straddled her legs on his hips to help.

Jon lost his human senses as his animalistic ones took over. He ripped the back of her dress as a release of his desperation towards her.

Despite the cold, Dany felt warmer as his hands touched her bare back. She had to gasp for air.

And in response, Jon kissed her neck and shoulder blades. He couldn't get enough of her as he pushed her soft body closer to his as possible.

Dany's thighs opened further and tightened around his waist. She wanted him to feel the warmth between her that had craved for him eternally.

Jon didn't just feel it, he relished it.

Her breasts pressed against his chest made him shiver when her nipples hardened in between them. His hand immediately cupped one as his lips found hers again.

His thumb circled it till it hardened even more. He was astonished. Jon wanted to take it in his mouth that he tugged her strap away only to bare her pale full breast that pinked on her protruded nipple.

His tongue circled on it and Dany was in the brink of losing her mind. Her arms embraced his head as she leaned back for him to devour her.

The droplets felt warm on their skin as if the rain was a long forgotten memory.

Jon's crotch felt like it was about to burst through his denim as he kept her straddled towards the dark cottage. But he couldn't just go in yet. He stopped at the door—her back adjacent to it. He wanted to see her clearly as flashes of lighting illuminated her.

Dany moaned when his warm calloused hands trailed from her thighs to her buttocks under her now invisible veil of a dress. A splitting sound again shot her ear that coincided with the thunder's roar when he ripped the top front of dress even further.

He was an animal.

The faint flash of lightning enlightened her beautiful body in the darkness again and Jon almost lost it tearing her underwear apart, reaching down on her and kneeling as he parted its lips with the flick of his tongue and tasting her there on his knees, her thighs on his shoulder, his hands on her breasts.

She was sweeter than summerwine. Jon couldn't get enough. He wanted to drink her empty.

Dany was in a daze. She convulsed as she held on to his hair—not because he needed help—but to keep her in place as she groaned for more.

Seconds later he felt her body tighten under his breath. He knew she was about to sing his awaited song. But Jon felt selfish. He wanted to see her sing when he thrusts himself to where he was kissing now. He wanted her to scream when she takes him fully.

So Jon threw her on the feather bed unceremoniously and she laughed at his roughness.

Dany was on a high, craving for that peak he almost gave her—involuntarily touching herself everywhere. Her eyes were glassy in desire and anticipation.

She lay there naked with bits and pieces of the remains of her white dress. Her cheeks and legs were stained with mud.

Jon took mental notes on how she looked so delicious in his dark eyes.  _A proper woman for a wolf_.

He knelt beside her and she scrambled over him, unbuttoning his jeans hastily as her lips found his again.

Their passionate hungry kisses lasted forever.

She pushed him down and toppled on him. Their lips met again as she humped herself on his shaft and Jon touching her everywhere.

It felt amazing as it sent an array of firecrackers to wherever he touched.

Jon felt her hot friction and he almost lost it, his hands caressing her everywhere but settled on to her breasts.

She broke their kiss pulling herself up, eyes closed and hips gyrating violently as she hungered for her release but Jon stopped her there as he toppled over her finding her lips again. His tip rested on her entrance while his thumb circled her nipple.

There was a slight pressure below and she froze with both hands on his shoulders. Jon paused when he saw her expression. Her eyes were solemn mixed with fear. "What's wrong?"

"I'm a maiden, Jon."

His eyes lowered but she raised his chin up with her index finger.

"Can I have you?" He asked solemnly and already expecting her rejection.

She didn't respond, her eyes in the lightest of purple and she shook her head smiling.

"No?" He whispered, eyes closed awaiting for the dreaded negation.

She eyed him intently as their foreheads met. "Yes."

Jon blinked, his heartbeat raising like he just won the lottery. It's not like he would be as happy as he was now by winning money from a game of chance. Because it was nowhere close.

This was genuinely the best day of his life. He knew this was beyond the desires of the flesh. This was a man's lifetime of happiness. "Forever?"

"I am yours. Beyond forever." She reached to kiss his forehead and mirrored his uplifted and proud expression.

"And I, yours. Longer than that." He pressed their palms up to the pillow, kissed her breasts softly, to her neck, her jaw, and finally took her lips with his own. He felt her thighs open for him and he was gradual and careful as their kiss deepened.

When he entered her, he witnessed her gasping in pleasure and amorousness—like the first day of spring where the flowers slowly sprout from the melting snow.  His heart was beating out his chest.

And they were bound as their bodies swayed in unison—like branches in a storm—meeting at the same place at the same time and separating only to meet again by the sound of a thousand angry thunders and flashes of tempestuous light.

He was hers. And she was his.

  
________________________


	24. 22 | PROMISES

_______2010_______

"Whoa, who chewed you up and spat you out?" Robb's thundery voice boggled up Jon's quiet entrance to his bedroom late in the night.

"A dragon." Jon mumbled as he stared at his bruised up mug on the tall mirror hung on the wall.

Robb was not exaggerating. His eyes were swollen like a gold fish's, he had cuts just under his eyebrows that needed some stitching and his jaw was busted.

However, he can't help but smile at the turn of events earlier that day when he defeated Rhaegar. Of course he couldn't tell Robb but he was just dying to.

But he shouldn't. Nobody even knew who trained Rhaegar either but it was rumored that Ser Barristan Selmy did so. He was the best warrior in his generation.

And to keep the suspicions off on who this mysterious mentor is, Jon had to come up with a lie that was believable— something lowly that any bastard would do no questions asked, such as:

"Way to go spending your nameday on cheap bar fights, dear brother." Robb shook his head laughing as he stood behind him staring at his beat-up face.

"You should've seen my opponent's mug when I beat the living shit out of him." He joined his brother's banter. It was true, though. From Rhaegar's debonair and comely features, Jon really  _beat the living shit out of him_.

"I can tell but I wonder what father thinks of this after you missed your party and came home looking like that." He smirked in his sincere kind of way and went back to his bed, propping up on his elbow.

It's as if he'd been splashed a bucket of icy cold water from the Shivering Sea by Robb's mention of their father. "Does it look that bad?"

"Of course not! Dear brother, you look uglier when you're alright." Robb always lightened his mood.

"Nevertheless, I'm still ten times hotter than you, though." Jon tried to make a face but the pain was unbearable.

"Dream on." He chuckled. His blue eyes glinting in through the dark like windows to broad daylight.

"How was training today by the way?" Jon went to his brother's bathroom for the medicine cabinet. He was sure there's a painkiller somewhere.

"A lot better when you're still attending. Not one soul is a proper opponent for Robb Stark, you know?" He yelled so Jon could hear him from the other room and he picked up his snickering as a response.

Robb then shook his head and turned the page of a book he's been reading. "It's unfair that you could skip it and not get a thousand words of terror and resentment from my mother."

Jon emerged from the bathroom taking two dozes of painkillers. "Well, she already does that to me everyday. And besides, I'm not the heir to Winterfell so there's a trifle of freedom I could relish from and a little bit more of it from being a bastard."

"Don't rub it in. For all it's worth, I'm still the prettiest Stark." Robb tried to continue his banter ignoring the comment on his mother's cruelty. He hated her for it.

"Well brother, I can't have everything, can I?"

"You speak truthfully, ser." He gave him a salute but his eyes were still glued on the book. "Happy nameday."

"Wait. What's this?" Jon snatched the book from his bed and comically staring at him curiously. "Is Robb Stark, future Lord of Winterfell, reading a thick picture-less publication with hundreds of pages?"

"Give it back." Robb blushed, it was as if being caught redhanded from stealing a noble girl's underwear.

"And what information have you acquired from such an expository resource? I've never seen you breathe on a book; let alone read one." Jon was flipping the pages but Robb knew he couldn't read without his glasses.

"Let me explain myself from this demeaning act that you so enjoy, you dweeb." He snatched it back. "Remember when Beric Dondarrion survived a gunshot through the heart?"

"Yes, he was saved by the legendary doctor—Thoros of Myr."

"And this is his thesis about the heart's system." He raised the book high the way the High Sparrow did to the Book of the Seven Gods before a sermon.

"I don't know where you're going with this. Did some noble lady break your heart?" Jon teased. Seeing Robb so enthused of a book was a first for him.

"Jon, listen. He claims that he is not as legendary as you think he is because he established beyond doubt that there's one gunshot to the heart that you can survive from. Dondarrion is one lucky shite!"

"What? Are you seriously going to believe that Robb?" Jon mused and settled for an explanation of his own. "The man's just probably too humble."

"I'm serious! There's a part through the heart that is reparable from damage especially from gunshot. But a surgical operation is vital within two hours tops before you start hemorrhaging." Robb scratched the back of his head, a bit unsure of himself. He had barely finished the book yet. There's so much to learn from it before he could have Jon's full attention since he might think it's a pretty stupid idea right now.

Jon shook his head in disbelief at the unorthodox idea. He had studied the heart himself in various books years ago. It is impossible. "That's impractical. Don't you need a special bullet for that, too?"

"Yes! The one used on Beric was a tad smaller than the standard ammo."

"And if you miss, you die, right?"

"I guess. But if done right, it would be the greatest prank of all time, don't you think?" Robb shook his brother's shoulders, eyes wide zealously ecstatic.

"How is this useful again?" His face marked by confusion and disinterest as if it wasn't science but make-believe magic.

Robb paced back and forth across the room. "I haven't figured what to do with that piece of information yet. A fake suicide, maybe?"

But Jon finally put the hammer down in this stupid and dangerous idea of his. "I don't know how that's going to work at all brother. If you, impossibly, make that perfect shot which is too risky, I might say, one, you'd fall unconscious, two, you need someone to make an incision by your lower left rib where your artery is and, three, install blood transfusion so your heart could temporarily have some blood to pump from in less than two hours. It'll be a mess."

Robb rolled his eyes. It was typical Jon to cut the cord on him like the know-it-all genius that he was. "Yeah, yeah. You're always so closed off of every glimmering idea. But think about it, it might come in handy."

Jon took the hint that he was maybe a bit rough on his brother that he had to lighten up the mood. "Hmm, I do like to see the look on father's face though, when you go suicidal on him."

"Right? Imagine mother's!" And just like that Robb was back to his usual exuberant self.

"You'd be in so much tr—"

A knock on the door interrupted their repartee and Robb backfired on Jon's unfinished sentence.

"No, you are!"

The door creaked open and it was Catelyn Stark. Her eyes were beady in the dark. He could almost hear her hiss. "Jon, your father summons you."

He ignored her in the best he could and went straight to his father's office.

"Father," he opened the one of the double doors.

"Jon, come in." Eddard Stark sat in the poorly lighted room that was brightened by a single lamp on his table.

But it was enough for Jon to see his father.

A sharp pang shot through his heart when he saw him dressed in a grand grey suit he only owned which he probably wore just for the party earlier that was supposed to be Jon's nameday celebration.

 _He never wore that in just any party_. And thus, it occurred to his son that this particular celebration was in fact important to his father. He doesn't know why but it did.

"Take a seat." Ned beckoned him to the seat across him. "I do not appreciate you missing your eighteenth nameday celebration, Jon."

"Nobody came for me anyway." The suppressed bitterness escaped his lips. He hated his birthday. It was an annual reminder of how much he didn't belong  to this family. People only came for his parents and his brother but never for him.

"So, instead, you spend your night tussling with vile men in underground fights?"

"It keeps me in shape, father, better than any combat training the universities has to offer. But I do apologize to have disappointed you."

"You are forgiven, son, but you must understand that you can't do this forever. You have a duty to your people and we have crucial matters to discuss."

"I know the importance of our crusade, father, but I'm not quitting."

"It's not what I intend fully but I respect your tenacity." Ned massaged his temples with an expression of equal parts displeased but proud.

"Thank you." Jon bobbed his head in respect.

And then the unexpected happened. His father's eyes that reflected his, stared back at him the way he did when he was young— when he hit a homerun in little baseball league for the first time or when he built his first robot arm. But Jon was more caught off guard by the words that came out of his mouth. "I trust you, son. I trust you ferociously that I was to make you my successor tonight."

"What?—" he couldn't make up a sentence in his agitation and astonishment.

Be as it may, his father continued, "in lieu of your absence in the revelry earlier, I will legitimize you tomorrow evening at the charity auction and before that night ends, you will be heir to Winterfell."

"But Robb—"

"He does not deny your capabilities, Jon, and he loves you. Robb will be by your side as your heir presumptive if you wish to not have children."

"But he wants this, father, and he is your true born heir." He stood from his seat, roiled up as he looked down on his father. "How can you not consult me beforehand?"

"I have made my decision ever since I chose you to aid me in this pursuit of ours." He sat straight like the noble Lord he was and ignored Jon's petty complains.

"But you didn't even give him—or me—a chance!"

"Jonathan, isn't this what you've always wanted?" He raised his brows knowing he spoke the truth. Jon wanted to be treated equally as his brother.

"This is not my birthright! I'm stealing this from Robb." His eyes welled with unshed tears.

His father strode closer to him, holding both his shoulders with a deathly serious gaze. "I need someone who could duly take my place when I finish our mission, Jon. And you are extremely capable, my son. You are so much like me."

"I only bear your image but I can't replace you." Shaking his head, he pulled back from his hold.

"Nonsense. How can you fulfill your duties if you are not with power?" He lifted his arms disbelievingly.

"I can keep the peace after the Chaos as Robb's adviser."

"Do you think his mother would allow you?" His father pressed his lips together as if he was about to say something he would regret.

"Then, keep her in line!"

"She will be when you become Lord of Winterfell— whether you like it or not!" Ned pushed his hair back. The wolf's temper was burning inside of him but he kept his composure. "This is not a request. My son, you deserve this the most. I wouldn't have anyone else better."

"You don't have to leave us, father, if this is what it's all about." A tear finally dripped down to the dark blue carpet which made a tiny round stain.

But his father pretended not to see it and went back to his seat instead of embracing his boy. They needed to be strong. "It's certainly not. The world needs a monster, Jon. I have to do this."

"I can do it for you. You don't have to die." Jon's voice broke. He understood why his father had to sacrifice himself but he just couldn't bare the thought of losing him.

"No father wants to bury his own child. I'm doing this for you, for Robb and for Cat." His gaze briefly fell upon a photo of him with his two boys and immediately it strengthened him further to pursue their crusade. "Now, promise me, make this world a better place when I'm gone."

Jon sobbed his shoulders shivering and tears now freely falling.

"Jon." His voice rigid and purposely intolerant of his son's show of melancholy because they had so little time and he knew he understands.  _My boy is strong._

"I promise, father." Jon helplessly vowed in fear. He feared his father's death, the responsibility it will bring and the shame towards Robb and the Northern Men for he never believed he was adequate for such title and such betrayal to his own brother.

Jon Stark slept that night lost in the thought of how everything has turned its tide for him. He'll finally meet the girl of his dreams and he'll finally be a legitimate son of Eddard Stark when the sun rises tomorrow.

But something didn't feel right. It was too good to be true, too peculiar—like there was some sick joke that's about to burst out of nowhere and crush his soul.

And that was one of those times where his instincts were always right. The next morning when he arrived on the Isle of Faces to meet the Targaryen siblings, he found out Rhaegar died and Daenerys killed herself.

It's as if fate has pulverized his heart, then.

In his father's dismay, Jon never showed up at the charity auction that night and he fled further North where his heart belonged—to the cold and the hopeless.

_______12/11/16_______

WARHEAD DETONATION    
COUNTDOWN   
**102 hrs 12 mins**

"I promise." He mumbled so softly that Dany would have missed it if she hasn't given every ounce of attention to this sleeping naked man sprawled beside her. His arms wrapped around her waist as if his life depended on it.

She began to wonder what promise he was keeping for and she amused herself for a vain supposition that it may be about her.

But it was highly unlikely for him to dream of such because their words last night weren't exactly promises.

In fact, it was a proffer—a proposal or an offering of each other's love—awaiting for acceptance or rejection from the other. It was their unfaltering way of declaring that they are sworn soul mates that knows no bounds and against all odds. That even in death itself—they will remain and live forever in each other's hearts.

So when his brows furrowed as if it was more laborious than protecting a maiden from the world of evil or more grim than finding one's soulmate, she concluded that the promise was in no relation to her and that there were more secrets he was keeping after all.

"Father." There was hesitance and utter sadness in his tone that made her want to hold him closer.

Only one name etched into Dany's mind then.  _Eddard Stark._

Maybe in time, there will be no secrets between them— she hoped. And this newfound determination of hers starts with unveiling that surreptitious vow to his father.

Their noses touched, their breathing became singular as their bodies pressed.

Dany remembered so little from the intoxicating bliss of last night's lovemaking. All she knew was the feeling of passion, insatiable thirst, pleasure, love, euphoria and a bit of pain that made it all immeasurable by words of satisfaction.

Undeniably, Jon was an animal in the sack but with a kind of grace and precision that was incomparable. He was careful not to hurt her. He eased her, pleased her and yet he wasn't afraid of emotionally tearing her apart and sending her to a psychedelic universe with the gods.

The storm has passed and cleared the skies of Greywater Watch but there was still a dark cloud of unresolved indifferences looming above them.

She didn't want to start with that thought crawling from the back of her head. Even if, 5 days from now, Jon will unleash chaos and hell itself with his weapons of massive destruction.

It hadn't entailed that Daenerys had joined the dark side or the bright side —whichever side Jon's chaos crusade belonged to. She was nonetheless deathly against mass murder.

Although she greatly cared for the lives at stake, criminal or innocent, Jon Snow is hers and she can't just let go of him. Not now.  _Not ever._ Her lips closed the distance between them.

His eyes fluttered open.

"Hello, stranger." She blushed when he smiled—wrinkling on the sides of his eyes.

"Good morning, sweetheart." Jon's eyes gleamed so beautifully — now a lighter grey than yesterday's charcoal black. "Hmm. You smell so good."

"Do I?"

"Like summerwine and roses." He buried his nose on the hollow of her collarbones sending butterflies to her stomach.

"Jon." She pushed him back gently with a hand on his shoulder.

"What's wrong?" His expression transitioned to worry then apologetic. "Have I hurt you?"

"No. No. Last night was wonderful but it was also reckless." She was smiling no matter how hard she tried to keep a straight face. "It's just—we haven't really thought this through, have we?"

"It was a blast of passion but you're right. It was my fault for being so selfish and forward, Dany." He shook his head with no sign of regret in his eyes. "But you weren't helping at all."

"What do you mean?"

"You can't just walk around through the forest wearing a dripping white dress." He pointed to the white torn fabrics on the floor. Some hung on the chair he used to sit on. "Where were you headed anyway?"

She paled, reminiscing the events of yesterday. "To you, dummy."

"Well, I tried walking away but you left me no choice. I am but a man after all." He explained himself as his thumb brushed her flushed cheek.

"I didn't plan that!" She lifted herself and sat on his waist while she crossed her arms stubbornly. "I thought you were struck by lightning."

"And now, I'm so glad it missed me or I won't have seen you ever again." His eyes travelled briefly on her nakedness as his hands caressed the sides of her waist.

"Is that the only thing you're happy about?" Her palms dropped to both sides of the pillow his head rested on. The tips of her silver hair tickled his cheeks and forehead.

"Of course not. I also got to make love with my all-time crush back in Kings Landing—slash—goddess of my dreams." He grimaced without taking his eyes of hers.

The effect he gave still swooned her pathetically. "What I meant was you should be happy you're alive."

"Then what would be the point of living if not living with you?"

"You're such a flatterer." She slapped his cheek playfully.

Mocking an angry grin, he held her waist and knocked her back to the sheets where he propped his left elbow beside her, his right hand caressing the outline of her naked skin. "Am I?"

"Yes." She pursed her lips hiding a smile.

"You can't really blame me if this is what I see in the morning." His dark eyes scanned her naked body illuminated by the sun creeping through the windows.

"Jon," her eyes fought to be serious. "Don't we have things to discuss?"

His fingers trailed to her collarbone down to the curve under her breasts. "What's that? I can't really think straight right now, baby."

Dany couldn't either—not when his warm hairsbreadth touch is tickling her inner thighs and his nose nuzzling on the back of her ear.

"You're so beautiful." Jon whispered kissing her neck with the faintest of friction.

"Jon." She held her breath trying to focus. But her senses gave way when his lips finally landed on her collarbone and down to her breasts.

"I'm here." The calm assurance in his husky tone sounded so good to her ears.

She needed support for her growing desire that was tightening her stomach as she held his chiseled back and pulling him closer.

They kissed softly this time but with a growing tension they were familiar of from last night. Their tongues danced as their bodies undulated with the same tumultuous passion, increasing at every contact.

Through the throng of skin and white sheets, Dany could feel him hardening by her thigh that made her mouth water.

This time she wanted to take control pushing him back down filling his lips with hers as they kissed softly.

Feeling him harden even more beneath her, she took it between her legs. Jon breathed deeply when she slowly brought him into his happy place.

Her jaw slacked, her lips parted and her chest heaved.

His fingers snaked to her breasts, lightly pinching on her nipples and staring up at her as she wound her hips up and down gradually at first.

But then she started to gyrate in abandon, on her way to the peak and Jon thrusted himself up to meet her there.

She was violently humping on him and he could feel her muscles tighten, holding her breath.

Jon was lost inside of her. The world could have blown up and he wouldn't notice a single thing. He just wants to hear her sing.

And she did in a loud vulnerable moan, her legs trembling, her body arched falling back. But in a swift motion, he was on top of her, his thumb massaging her mound.

She was in a daze still winding her hips under his touch.

But Jon can't possibly last any longer that he quickly positioned her on her knees and palms.

She laughed at his roughness. His wolf blood boiled in desperation.

Once again, he buried himself inside her as he was pulling her up that her back was pressed against his chest.

She gasped as his hand cupped her breast tightly while the other circulated down on her.

He thrusted deeper and deeper inside her reaching her inner and outer walls. She never felt this full before. It's as if he lit the firecrackers back through her veins.

The back of her head rested on his shoulder while his hands circled her breasts and his lips kissing her neck as he thrusted deliciously rough inside of her.

His grunts were inhuman— animalistic growls that could indicate his closeness to fully losing himself in her.

"Jon!" He heard her sob, and feeling her tense because she, too, can almost grasp another sweet, mind shattering climax just milliseconds away.

His hold on her tightened helplessly, in no control and losing his pace as he was writhing in abandon.

Unexpectedly, they both burst from their pleasure and their bodies went limp in drunkenness and exhaustion.

Even in postcoital, he still hungered her skin against his—nuzzling her face and kissing her back as she hung on to him desperately making sure his arms never let go of her tremblingly weak body.

They lay there with no sudden motion until their breaths evened and their sweat went colder on their skin.

Out of nowhere, Dany's stomach grumbled and they both laughed breathlessly.

"What would you like for br—er, lunch?" Jon asked with lips on her shoulder. Time flew by so quickly.

"You." She giggled.

"Me?" He groaned in fatigue. "Give me five minutes and I'm good to go, love."

"I'm kidding." She chuckled and shifted to face her lover.

"Thank the Old Gods, I'm exhausted." He spoke, their lips pressing.

"You, my sexy man, you need to rest." She whispered to his ear and gave him a peck. "I'll be waiting in the shower."

"Hmm, I like the sound of that." He gave a soft slap to her bum before she disappeared out the door. "Give me five minutes or three, sweetheart!"

The rest of the house was quiet and relaxingly quaint as the yellow light streaked through every window of the cottage illuminating the joint living room and kitchen.

Before she could step in to the bathroom, a little trinket of yesterday's memory caught her eye. The ruby ring shone through the beam of light that made tiny red flares on the kitchen counter.

She almost leapt.

In a haste, Dany grabbed the ring and put it in one of the drawers. Her breath staggered and cold sweat trickled down to her nape.

Her heart was smothered by that ghastly cloud that looms at the back of her mind when she remembered what happened yesterday when Jon left to repair the circuit and she went wandering in the woods alone.  _What have I done?_

A warm hand stroked her waist and she jolted in surprise.

"Have I startled you?" Jon embraced her from behind and kissed her temple.

"Me? Startled? Don't be silly." She laughed nervously.

"Then why aren't you in the shower, dummy?" He pressed her back by the kitchen sink too see her face. "Is something bothering you?"

She became silent for a moment and lowered her eyes to her naked feet. "We need to talk, Jon. About us and the whole Chaos enchilada."

Jon sighed endearingly, lifted her chin with his index finger and kissed her cheek. "We can talk in the shower, baby."

_______12/12/16_______

WARHEAD DETONATION    
COUNTDOWN   
**69 hrs 58 mins**

The sun appeared oversized in the midafternoon sky as the two lay basked under its rays by the little wooden dock of the vast lake.

Jon explained it is nothing but an optical illusion manifested by the lake's reflective surface but Dany didn't care. The sun was beautiful, nevertheless.

It was time for her to ask him and evade all distractions that come her way which included the sex. She can't deny that she initiated some of the occurrences but now, they were to talk properly like adults.

He was clearly stalling the talk that would bring their spirits down and Dany reciprocated the reluctance. So he broached up other activities she hadn't done before, like fishing, fencing and skinny dipping.

But this time, now that the chaos will commence in less than three days, this had to be brought up— maybe even stop it from happening. So she raised the subject and finally he obliged since now that they were close to fully clothed. Jon wore khaki shorts while she wore her newly washed pair of white underwear.

"Why won't you just let the world end rather than dehumanizing yourself?" Her hands swayed to the sky in an odd attempt to touch the clouds as she lay on the wooden dock beside this gorgeous being.

"Because there's so much wrong to make right." He lay with his eyes closed with a forearm rested on his forehead. The sound of her voice soothed him as he absorbed the sun's warm touch.

"Such as?" Her gaze fell on him briefly with one eye squinting from the beaming light.

"Daenerys Targaryen needs a life." He mirrored her with one eye opened, a curve beginning to appear on his lips.

"You don't think I'm living the life right now?" Dany raised her brows in a mock of confusion. Her head held up by her arm as she turned to his side.

"Well, there's progress but there's so much more to do, love. I want you to explore the world, eat exotic foods, discover the best sunsets, have a family of your own and grow old. To die an old lady—warm on your bed." His deep set grey eyes grew wider in a genuine enthusiasm.

She attempted to scoff teasingly but a smile fought through her lips instead.

"And just like you," his index finger tapped on to her nose, "I want the innocent to live up to the extent of their lifetimes for them to see that there's a possibility of living a better life. You see, Dany, 10 years is too short for anybody to start anew."

She then toppled over him with her arms crossed on top of his chest and her chin digging on it.

"You're messing up my tan." He rolled his eyes jokingly.

Dany stuck her tongue out in a playful manner and fought to be serious. "But wouldn't it be beautiful, Jon? That the world will end as it is? That it is fate's judgement and not ours?"

"As poetic as that sounds, I just can't let it be." He stared up at the sky—couldn't meet her irises of large violet orbs.

"Jon, is this really for the people or just Mother Nature's life span extension program?" Her eyes narrowed awaiting for his reply.

"It's for both, Dany." He sighed closing his eyes, savoring this moment with her and memorizing the weight of her before she—

She lifted herself up and sat beside him. "But how is it for us, too, when you're about to massacre half of the population?"

"We have tipped the scale and our planet does not negotiate. Balance is a necessity and it is our call whether we'd allow ourselves to be extinct or not." He opened his eyes and saw her blocking the sun from him that made her hair glow in white and gold rather than silver.

"Is humanity even worth it?" She carefully whispered as if her words were blasphemous to his ears.

But it wasn't for Jon. He thought of that same query before but looking at her now, his answers became more robust. "Definitely. The wildlings, for example, deserve a chance of a good life where they don't worry anymore about dying in the cold or of starvation— to have their own rights to education and security."

She bit her lip, slowly she understood where this Chaos Crusade of his became murkier grey than just black. "Alright. But look at the real picture here. They won't be free from discrimination, Jon. Westeros' perception of them remains vile and diminutive."

"That's where you come along, Dany." He lifted his upper extremity up so their eyes leveled whilst brushing her hair behind her ear. His expression filled with trust and exuberance. "Help them—together with my brother. Make him understand. As Lord of Winterfell, he can attest to their innocence and govern them in the North for the time being until Westeros has fully recovered and ready for the change."

But her expression became wary as she pushed his hand away. "Why do you speak so singular of me?  _Me_  helping them? What about  _you_? Where do you fall in this? What do you mean by 'I'd have a family of  _my_  own'? Shouldn't it be  _ours_? Shouldn't it be  _us_ helping the wildlings and the innocents, Jon?"

"Dany, I—" he was caught off guard. This was what he was trying to avoid.

"What?" Her lips shook, bile raising up her throat.

He sat up properly and held her hands tightly. His eyes pleading for her to not to panic from what he was about to say. "I—won't survive from this chaos. I won't be there when the peace is fully restored."

"What are you talking about?!" Her lips curled and brows furrowed as if she was about to burst into tears.

"Some of the mobsters will come to realize I was behind the missile launch codes and they will start hunting for me—not to mention, the government authorities."

"Yes but you're the best warrior and marksman I've ever seen, Jon." She shook her head, water beading on her tear ducts. Her fingers gripped on his curls for support.

"They'll use my weapons against me." Their foreheads touched. "Even the best fall down sometimes, love."

"We can always go back to the Land of Always Winter!" Her violet eyes were beseeching for him to say yes.

"I have to stay and fight and make sure no mobster will stray and survive." He cupped her face.

"But you can't just endure all this on your own. You have an army!" Her voice broke.

"My men? You are mistaken. They are not my army; they are my brothers. They have served me well but their services were ceased on that night of the campfire where you danced so beautifully. They are now free men."

"But Jon—"

"Only Edd and Grenn were supposed to stick with me. But I have relieved Edd from his service because he has a family now and it would be unfair to Grenn if I won't grant him the same thing."

"Then you have me!" She grabbed his hand and placed it on her chest where her heart was beating violently.

He pulled his hand in disagreement only to cup her beautiful tear-stained face once again. "No. I can't have you in danger. I'd kill myself for even thinking of putting you close to that ever again."

"Jon, can't you see? I'm slowly accepting this monstrosity plan of yours and you won't even fight to live for me? For us?" She couldn't breath after that especially when his eyes gave away the answer she never wanted to hear.

"My father never considered this duty to be a happily ever after for him. This is a suicide mission to which I have accepted to inherit."

"But you didn't have to—"

"No. It was all my fault. I botched his plans and all of what we worked hard for— just because I couldn't accept the stupid title of Lord of Winterfell and that I lost you when Rhaegar died."

"You were next in line?"

"Yes. When I found out my father had died for the wrong cause— betrayed by his own men—I almost killed myself off the guilt until I remembered my  _promise_. I promised to make this world a better place when he's gone. So I turned my cloak against the Night's Watch, rebelled and resumed what he started."

Daenerys was speechless. There it was, the promise he made with Eddard Stark.  _He was supposed to do all this but he was unsuccessful so he passed this on to his son?_ Her nose flared in terror and anger. "He asked you to die? If this is all about guilt, Jon, it wasn't your fault in the first place."

"Of course he didn't and this is not about the guilt. This gave me a reason to live because for once, my life had purpose. Without you, without Rhaegar, I thought I was useless but no, there was a lot of people that needed my help, too. "

"You can't just let yourself die in the process!"

"If I impossibly pull through and live on, it will be shortlived nonetheless. I am still a criminal for persecution in their eyes, Dany and it's alright. I have chosen this road but selfishly dragged you along with it and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Dany. I needed to protect you especially from the chaos that follows."

"Despite of all this, Jon, I have chosen you. All I want is for us to be together, Jon. Why can't you just—"

It killed him to see her this way. "I have to finish this. But you will always have me no matter what happens, Dany. I am yours beyond forever and nothing can change that." He held her shoulders and shook her in a plea for her to understand him.

"And yet you still choose to die?" The breathlessness got her the strength to push him away as she stood holding herself together.

"Please don't cry. Resent me if you wish. I'm a lost cause from here on out. You were aware of that from the very beginning, right?" He kneeled, gripping her skirt.

"I was. But foolishly, I believed you would come through for us." She shoved him again.

"There was a lack of good judgement on your part but I am truly the real fool here." His eyes  lowered to the ground and suddenly the bright sun disappeared along with his happiness, too.

"Then I guess this is the end it. Of us?"

He knelt in silence.

"Alright." She stammered defeatedly, pivoted and strode to the forest. Her steps turned brisk as her breathing got sharper—almost painful—until the next thing she knew, she was running, sprinting back to the cottage.

And when she reached the kitchen counter, her worst fears came sooner than she expected. She crumbled inside to see such familiar face lounging on their couch. "Hello there, honeypot."

She took a breath and straightened her expression immediately even though she was about to implode in agony. But she had to keep cool before he uncovers their liaison. "Agent Lannister, you finally came. Jon Snow abducted me."

The Order of the Seven's top agent wasn't alone. He brought a SWAT Team in full uniform and guns outside surveying the premises with hunting dogs.

"All that for one man?"

"He's not just a man. You should know that by now." He smirked menacingly with a questioning expression on his face.

 _Does he know?_ Her chest tightened. It is necessary for him to believe she's still on the Order's side— that she hasn't gone rogue. "He is in the premises. A perimeter of less than 300 yards."

"Rickon, you heard her. Search and capture."

A short teenager with a boyish grin appeared from the Howland Reed's lab with Jon's phone connected to the boy's laptop.

 _He's hacking it!_ The ground felt like it was swallowing her.  _Jon's phone contained all his plans. They must not find out about the Chaos Crusade or they'll kill him._  "Snow knows where the mobsters' hideouts are, Lannister. Commander would be pleased as interrogation will be productive."

"An interrogation is not indispensable, agent. I have all the information right here. Rickon here is our new hacker." He held both of his shoulders and pushed him closer to where Dany stood. "Rickon, Honeypot. Honeypot, Rickon."

But Daenerys never took her eyes off his laptop even for a second. She could see the addresses of the mobs and other information running on his screen. She could be biting off her fingers by now if Jaime wasn't ogling her suspiciously.

Awaiting for something like "warhead detonation" or "chaos crusade" that might pop up, she readied herself to grab the cutlery off the kitchen counter and fling it straight to Jaime Lannister's heart if it resulted to that.

Later did she realize that Rickon's hand was in between them, hanging on for her to shake it.

They shook hands.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Top Agent Stormborn. I'm a diehard fa—oh shit—oh fuck—his firewall shut mine down." The screen blacked out and his phone blew up burning the memory it could have stored.

"Nah, we got all we needed to know." Jaime patted the boy's back but never left his eyes on her. As if he was anticipating a subtle blow of her cover and he'd shoot her right then and there.

"What is Snow's sentence?" She spoke through her teeth.

And he laughed. A loud boisterous one that was purely sinister. "Your undeniable concern for that bastard is adorable, honeypot. And this lovenest of yours is quite endearing, too."

 _He knows._ By instinct, she sprang towards the door taking her only chance to protect him but Jaime caught her by her wrists. "Jon! Run! Ru—!"

He covered her mouth and whispered through her ear. "I wonder why you even switched the tracking device on when you're clearly in the moons for Snow."

She bit his hand and he cussed, pushing her on the sofa, aiming his gun at her.

Dany didn't flinch but her eyes spoke threats. "What will you do to him?"

"Let's just say, someone outbid him elsewhere, hmm? Probably a man of the east?"

"No." She knew who that man was.  _Grazdan._ "Robb would never approve of this. Where is he?"

"His involvement is vetoed." He uttered matter-of-factly as he sat on the coffee table across from her.

"The commander—"

"The commander gave the orders, sweetheart." He chuckled as if he just made the last move.  _Checkmate._

"You will never catch h—."

"Target has been captured, sir." Rickon interrupted apologetically as he listened to his earpiece. "He didn't give a fight, sir."

 _Why didn't he run? Why did he allow himself to be caught?_ In the brink of unconsciousness, she felt dizzy as her eyes flooded, blurring her vision in the process.

"Interesting. We actually caught him? Wow." Jaime Lannister spoke blaringly to rub it in and expressed disgust at her billowing emotions. "Suck it up, Stormborn. You don't want me to kill you the way I did to your father."

Daenerys Targaryen was falling apart.

_I never should have activated the stupid ring when I saw it in the wrecked car. I should've left it there and listened to you better. I should've stayed with you until there was no more time left for us. I'm sorry, Jon._

_I love you._ These were the words she wished she'd said.

______________________


	25. 23 | THE SWITCH

_______12/12/16_______

WARHEAD DETONATION    
COUNTDOWN   
**64 hrs 31 mins**

He could tell they were on air as the breeze turned abnormally freezing—different from the earlier afternoon sun.

Winter solstice was in the horizons and the breath of chill tingled in his spine. It was a familiar sensation yet only moderate compared to the wall of ice up north.

His head was covered in burlap and all that his sight provided were tiny stars formed by the holes of the gunny sack. Wrists and ankles were tied on thick knots of rope and cuffs.

But that didn't matter because four of his senses were heightened as before. He was aware that there were three people with him on the flying vessel—which he assumed a quadcopter based on the sound of multiple rotors.

Out of the three men, one seemed to have a different weight by the steps he heard. It seemed lighter—as if of a child's but his voice was peculiarly unfit to his body.

It can't be nobody else but  _Tyrion Lannister—Commander of the Order of the Seven._

"You found me quicker than I thought possible, imp." Jon began to speak and he heard those tiny footsteps again walking closer to him.

Tyrion wrenched the bag from his prisoner's face and sat across him.

Jon squinted as it was blinding until finally his eyes adjusted to the light.

Tyrion's expression towards Jon was as calm as before they reached adulthood but time had aged and scarred his face diagonally. "She made it easier for us."

Jon felt a crack on his chest. At first he was uncertain if Dany had been behind all this but the dwarf has just confirmed her betrayal casually. "I quite of underestimated your agent. She's one hell of a woman."

He smiled, the kind of smile with no judgement that lies within—just manly regard. "You're just a man, Jon Snow. A man always forgets his senses when a fine woman like Daenerys Targaryen drops from the sky."

He managed to chuckle amidst the betrayal he felt.  "What are the chances that it had to be her?"

"Luck, destiny, fate, doom— however you prefer to define it, one thing is clear. She scored deep within you." Tyrion could peek through his jet black eyes the fiery shard piercing his being.

"You utterly believe that?" He chuckled again with an expression convincingly unperturbed. "Who knew you could be such a comic?"

"It's usually in my nature; but in this case—not quite. You see, I brought the dragon prince to the boy in the broom closet, in the first place." His bushy eyebrows raised awaiting Jon's reaction of shock. "We were watching you."

" _We_?" His eyes narrowed in suspicion, analyzing how this situation will culminate.

Tyrion leaned forward. His eyes darted through his short lashes. "My father—Tywin Lannister—the first commander of the Order, had always been in the lookout for noble Westerosi youths who have exceptional skills. Prospects for future recruits."

Jon leaned back in his seat comfortably as if his rough binds were fine silk. "Let me guess, I happen to be one of them."

"No, not just one of them." He shook his head chuckling and pointing his index finger at him. "You—you topped the profiling test."

"So you manipulated Rhaegar into training me to make me one of you?" Jon smiled, baring his teeth as it shone under the artificial light.

"That was sheer luck. We were hoping he'd just inspire you—not choose you." The delight in his voice was vivid as the past turn of events were reminisced. "But he did and the Order couldn't be happier... _at the time_."

"But your little project didn't go so well after all, did it?" He laughed, lightly mocking.

"Tragically so." The short man joined the laughter.

"We've never met, imp. Formally." His voice lowered but without hint of hostility. In fact, it was borderline friendly.

"Indeed, bastard. But we don't need any introductions, do we? You know who I am and I exactly know who you are." He sat back, giving distance between their developing respect.

"And by how much, exactly?" His brows raised questioningly.

"Hmm...A bastard boy who grew up in a castle sees himself as a rebellious outsider, runs away to the Night's Watch to seek belongingness but when his only parent died, he thirsted for vengeance and rebelled. Worked day in and day out from scraps to gamma radiation. Lead turncloaks into trading. Gained power and riches in less than two years. Allied with the wildling chief, Mance Rayder.  Established the Nightswatch Enterprises. Opened the fighting pits. Kidnapped my agent. Murdered Roose Bolton to avenge his father. And now, here we are. "

"You know me well." Jon scoffed. Their lack of knowledge pleased him. He can't afford anyone knowing that could sabotage his plans.  _Seems like she kept her mouth shut. But for how long?_

The halfman shook the thick binder that contained Jon Snow's profile but he wasn't amused. He appeared deadly serious. "That's what it says right here but I don't buy it."

 _Shit._ He held his unfailingly calm and roguish façade. "Why not?"

"There are lapses to the story of Jon Snow." Flipping the pages, his eyes fell briefly on Jon— studying his face.

"How so?" Jon challenged.

"You can't just gain the support of half of the Night's Watch without a good cause."

"By good cause, you mean promise them women and riches?" Jon laughed, eyes disappearing with it. He began to relax when he realized Tyrion doesn't know shit after all. For a moment, he almost lost his cool.

"Hilarious." He sarcastically replied and back to his analytical brooding. "You can't win the heart of the Wildlings without a good cause, either."

"What is it with you and good causes?" Jon asked as he adjusted himself so the ropes won't cut and scrape deeper on his skin.

"Your father was a fan of those." Tyrion pressed his lips together as he swung his legs freely.

That irritated Jon a bit. "But alas! I'm not my father."

"Truly." He nodded in exaggeration in a manner of being completely unconvinced. "But something is missing. There's more to this story and I'm about to find out."

"Tell me when the fairy godmother comes, then." Jon wasn't worried because by the time the Commander finds the truth about him, it would be too late. So, instead, he just fussed on the itch of the aggravating bind he was tied to.

Tyrion, with a contented grin plastered on his face, placed his legs on the seat and decided to sleep. His body fit perfectly as if they made it a cradle just for him to sleep on.

Jon then pondered on what could be other benefits of being a dwarf besides the comfort of sleeping in small spaces? He needed a distraction from his own thoughts. So he mustered at least five beneficial situations if you're Tyrion Lannister and most of it were just for sexual innuendos until he finally fell asleep.

When he woke, it was almost dawn. Jon could tell the winds have changed direction against the chopper but it befuddled him to realize where they were going. "We're headed east."

"Yes." Tyrion knowingly nodded, yawning and wrapping his coat tighter for warmth.

"But your headquarters is in King's Landing." Jon's brows creased under his disheveled dark curls.

"Right again. But you're not going to set foot in Westeros anytime soon." A tiny smirk glinted on the commander's lips, leaving a hint of intrigue.

Jon nodded and smiled defeatedly as if he understood perfectly. When he thought he'd see her again and plan their escape, now it went completely out of his expectations. Even in her betrayal, he knew a portion of her acts were real. Nevertheless, he was now away from the woman he loves and pushed closer to his end. "You're taking me to the Old Ghis" — _where I aimed a nuke detonated in less than three days._

The smirk on Tyrion's lips evaporated. "Can you read minds or are the answers written on my forehead?"

"The latter."

Instinctively, Tyrion gazed at his reflection on the window.

"Ha! Made you look." Jon Snow cackled after the imp's squarish deformed head turned back to him.

"Even in captivity you still find humor, Jon Stark." He smiled dryly.

"Only in the presence of half-sized men." Jon winked, in attempts to hold himself together.

"Ah, yes! Imps are born for foolish amusements while bastards are born—?"

"A living reminder of a mistake." His eyes lowered as the grim emotion began to crack between the surface of his mask.

"I was going to say something lighter but that will do."

"Now, look where we are now? Completely different from what is expected of us." Jon stealthily patched himself up together again. He can't break down.

"I have to agree." Tyrion clapped his hands once, somehow overlooking the hopelessness in Jon's eyes.

Jon cleared his throat, kept his expressionless façade and tried to make more sense about the present situation. "Say, there's one thing I can't get the answer from."

"Then you are human after all. What is it?"

"To tell you the truth, I've never pictured that the irritatingly righteous Order of the Seven would deal with an illegal weapons manufacturer— shamefully, a poor one at that. So what could you possibly get from handing me over to Grazdan?"

The Commander of the Order gave a shy smile because somehow he has considered it a shameful act to negotiate with criminals, too. But he didn't respond and Jon knew he would know soon enough.

As the sun finally reached its peak, they descended on the Ghiscari desert just outside the decadent ruin of a once significant castle in history.

The two men stood behind Tyrion and Jon. And soon they saw the tall dilapidated gate open to reveal a Ghiscari guard and a man in shackles. His face was covered with a brown gunny sack the way Jon had.

Tyrion began to push him to walk towards them as they would meet halfway under the scorching sun.

"This is prisoner trade." Jon whispered, squinting through the dust in his eyes.

"Correct." Tyrion spoke under his cerulean turban and old fashioned sunglasses.

"Who's this?" His chin beckoned towards Grazdan's prisoner to trade who was just leagues away. "Another spoiled aristocrat who lost his way?"

Tyrion laughed, wiping an imaginary tear under his sunglasses as they continued walking. "You can say that."

As they began to tread closer, the guard pushed the prisoner on his knees and yanked the sack from his head.

"Robb." Jon paled to see his only brother for the first time in years. He wanted to embrace him but his hostile and piercing blue eyes stopped him.

"Where is she?" Robb launched at him amidst being bound, digging his forehead on his. "You took her! Where is she?!"

A pang shot through his chest and he didn't know why. Was it the guilt of leaving his brother in Winterfell when he promised him he'd stay? Was it because he could hear the love and fury in Robb's voice? Or that deep inside, Jon thought Robb was a better man for Dany than he would ever be?

Jon just closed his eyes and stepped forward. The guard almost petrified at his close proximity but Jon kept walking to the tall gate of the Old Ghiscari Empire.

"Robb, calm down. She's home." He could hear Tyrion say.

 _Home?_ He scoffed and shook his head.

"Why, Jon?" Robb called out to him but he never turned back until they were at the gate.

He had to say something—anything—because this was his last chance to.

"I've missed you, Robb." He yelled before the gates fully closed. "And I'm sorry."

_____________________

"Are you going to say what's on your mind or just sulk in the corner?" Tyrion threw the binder to Robb who was looking out to the clouds, his hands fisted, eyes filled with anger.

"Commander, with all do respect, how could you let Jon go? They're probably working for him!" His voice was rough from dehydration.

"It's either you rotting in a jail cell in Essos or we free him as a bird, agent."

"But what about the mission?"

"If it weren't for your impatience, we could've kept him in our cells! You get yourself caught tailing that redhead for nothing." Tyrion bore holes to Robb's eyes. He had enough of his agent's insubordination.

Robb quieted and lowered his gaze to the floor. Suddenly the words Jon said finally made its way through him. And he felt his eyes burning. Even after all this, he still cared about Jon no matter what he did.

He suddenly felt guilty for his brother's banishment to Essos. He wished what he said about Grazdan working for Jon was true. But he knew it wasn't— based on the horrors he saw in the palace, Jon would never adhere to that.

"For the meantime," his commander brought him to attention. "I want you to interrogate Stormborn on Snow. Missandei will brief you when we get back."

Robb's eyes flitted back in suspicion and dissent. "Is an interrogation necessary for a fellow agent? It's Dany. She won't hide a thing from us."

"Missandei will brief you when we return." Tyrion repeated sternly.

_______12/13/16_______

WARHEAD DETONATION    
COUNTDOWN   
**47 hrs 41 mins**

Daenerys Targaryen sat for 10 hours in the four walls of the suffocatingly small interrogation room which consisted of a two-way mirror, a glass of water, two metal chairs and a table.

It was cold and dull and white— completely the opposite of where she had been for the last 24 hours where greens and wide open spaces sprawled around her.

She can't believe she spent years of her life in this facility and slept in a runty room she haven't had the chance of decorating. She ate the same food everyday, trained, fought and bled for years.  _Have I even lived before I met you?_

Three teardrops fell on the steel table as she began to cry once again. How could she not have seen the way she trapped herself and refused the world? When her father and brother died, it felt like nothing was left of her, too.

But Jon Snow stitched her up and brought her to new horizons. He showed her how be human. To feel. To appreciate. To love. And now, he's gone, too, because of her.

The unbearable longing of his presence was as painful as swallowing pieces of broken glass but she can take it if it meant seeing him again even for the last time.  _Or even die trying._

She's not giving up just yet. She's been past the point of breaking but the strength to take in more of what hell is plummeting upon her surprised her. This newfound courage growing within her brought her back to her senses.

Her tears dried and her knuckles whitened as her fists gripped tighter.  _I have to get out of here._

"Everyone, please vacate the surveillance booth. Thank you." A familiar redhead stood on the doorsill as he waited for the people of the next room leave.

"Robb! Thank the Gods you're here." She stood up, hope brimming on the tips of her fingers and her toes.

But it diminished exponentially when he turned to reveal an expression of coldness. "Sit down, agent."

"Wha—?" Dany's brows creased as she slowly slumped back to her seat. Treated like a criminal for interrogation, it was unnerving for her to be in the shoes of those people and to be regarded condescendingly.

He sat across her with a folder in hand. "You've been gone for—what—10 days now?"

 _Has it only been?_ It shocked her. Did it really take just 10 days to fall in love with Jon Snow? Just 10 days and he showed her what she has been missing all her life?

"—so, are you still with us?" Robb's voice went back to the registry of her hearing.

"Are you seriously putting me in this seat, Robb?" Her nose flared and her lip curled in aggravation.

"Answer the question!" He stood slamming on the table. The chair's stilts screeched up on the floor.

Dany winced, shaking her head. "I don't know anymore. I need to get out of here."

"What is your relationship with Jon Stark, agent Stormborn?" He leaned, teeth bare.

"Time is running ou—!" Her voice begging helplessly.

"Were you romantically involved prior to your mission?" Robb was absolutely seething and he didn't know if he had the right to be.

"No! Robb, listen to me. We have to help your broth—!"

"Did you or did you not have sexual relations with Jon Stark?!"

"Yes!" She stood slamming her fists on the table as her patience crumbled. "Now, quit acting like a jealous boyfriend and listen to me!"

Robb put a hand on his chest and fell back to his seat. "I've waited for you for so long but in a span 10 fucking days, he had you so easily."

"Jon is —" she whispered.

"—better than me, I know. I can't blame you. But I would have appreciated if you have let me down so kindly." He couldn't look straight at her. Dany was the only constant thing in his life but now, it's changed. His mother changed and his brother did, too. And he's all alone.

"That's not what I was about to say but I'm sorry." Dany's eyes sparkled in a lighter, more understanding manner. "And you're not really the type who gives up anyway, right?"

"True." He sighed.

"And Jon is—There's a lot of things you don't know about him. He's done a lot of bad things but he really is a good man. Do I any make sense?"

Robb finally smiled his teasing smile. "Yes, you like the bad boy type. I get it!"

Dany turned crimson red. "What? No! Robb, I don't know why we are still talking about this." Her hand fell on his. "But I've missed this. I missed you."

"Me, too." He took her hand in his and squeezed. "I miss me, too. Being trapped in Old Ghis was dehumanizing."

"You—"

"I was out looking for you but I ended up in Essos and now, they have Jon in my place." His eyes trailed to the side to hide his guilt.

"You saw him!" Her violet orbs glinted under the fluorescence.

"I did."

"How is he? Was he hurt?" The concern in her voice was unmistakable.

"No but he gained a bit of weight and not the good kind." He laughed like the goofball that she recognized.

"Now's not the time." But she couldn't help but giggle. Although she never saw a change in Jon's physique.

"Fine. 'Nough joking around." He sat back with remnants of laughter disappearing. "What's the problem?"

Dany bit her lip, hesitant if telling Robb was the right thing to do. "There is a war coming."

"What are you talking about?"

"Have you ever heard of  _the chaos that follows_?"

"Jon told you about this?" He responded without another beat.

"Wait—you know?"

"When we were kids, my father spoke of a war born from chaos — a prophecy from the First Men that will obliterate all evil and restore peace. I didn't bat an eye on it. I thought it was madness! And I thought it died with him."

"It didn't. Jon re—"

"This explains everything!" The heels of his palms dug on his deep set eyes and after awhile he began to ramble his thoughts. "He chose Jon over me, did he? He always does! I know my brother is exceptional but my father didn't even give me a chance."

"He didn't give you a chance because you're good Robb. You're kind. You are pure and you would do the right thing no matter what it takes." Her voice was soothing but all she said was true. Ned needed someone who was capable to do atrocities for amelioration.

"Damn, I sound like such a lame ass." He chuckled but it didn't reach his blue eyes.

"No! You're boring and predictable—"

"Alright, alright. That's enough." He smiled waving his hands for her to stop.

"—but you are dependable and righteous. You're the  _hero_." She cupped his cheek with her palm and the other squeezing his hand.

He was never lost for words until this very moment.

"So do what you're best at— protect the civilians." Her violet eyes drilling on to his. "I have to get Jon. Old Ghis is one of his targets."

"There is no way to stop this, huh?" He lifted himself and faced the wall, in deep thought.

"None. Everything is done and his system is impenetrable."

"How much time do we have left?"

"48 hours."

"You will escape before the sun rises but they must not know I am behind this." He turned to face her and clutched her shoulders. "What are the target locations?"

"I— I can't recall all of the addresses but the seven states of Westeros has one. Including Essos." She stammered in attempts to recall what she saw on Jon's phone.

"What? How am I supposed to—"

As if a lightbulb just flickered in her brain, her eyes widened, grabbing hold of his shoulder. "Jaime has some of the locations of the mobsters but they're incomplete."

"The asshole knows?!"

"No! If he did, he could've killed us both. I'm getting Jon back and he will tell you himself."

His troubled brooding expression resembled of Jon's. "I don't think the Order of the Seven can cover all areas at once."

"I know but we need to save as many people as we can." Her grip compressed in acceptance. This was as good as it's going to get. Robb's help would be better than Jon's lack of concern and seeing it as  _collateral damage._ "The Wall is coming down, too."

"I wouldn't be surprised." He placed is mobile phone on her hand. "Hide this. I'll be sending you the patrol signals in the vicinity and the blueprints of Old Ghis." He stood up and gave her a quick hug. "Tell Jon to keep his pants up. I'll beat the living shit out of him when I see him."

"I will." She squeezed him tighter and let him go. "And Robb?"

"Yes?" He asked when he reached the door.

"Thank you." Dany smiled, her brows knitted together like she was about to cry for joy.

"Don't thank me yet. I still haven't given up on us." His head poking in on the doorsill.

"Robb." Dany shot him a serious glare.

"I'm kidding." He said laughing before closing the door.

WARHEAD DETONATION    
COUNTDOWN   
**43 hrs 12 mins**

"Stark! The fucking cunt is on the loose." Jaime stormed in the surveillance facility.

"What are your orders, sir?" Missandei asked Robb.

"Get me my car."

As he got closer to them, he yanked Robb's tie giving him a treacherous stare down. "I just happen to close my eyes and she escapes— on your watch, agent. You better not have something to do with this or I'll skin you alive, Stark."

"Fuck off, Lannister! Are we getting her back or are you just going to blabber your mouth till she disappears?" Robb pushed Jaime. His blood boiled but he kept his composure or he would blow his cover.

"I'll drive." Jaime spoke through his teeth as the silver SUV parked on the pavement.

"It's my car, darling." Robb smirked opening the driver's seat and beckoning Jaime to sit shotgun after turning the siren on.

Missandei was already in the backseat fiddling with her tablet and listening to her earpiece for status reports. "She's in King's Road."

"We'll meet her at the Gold Road intersection." Jaime ordered contemptuously. "Can you drive any slower, Stark?"

"It's rush hour idiot. You want me to plow on them all?" He gestured towards the cars in front of them. It took awhile before the traffic cleared out for them.

"There she is!" Jaime screamed as he got a closer look. "Is that my bike?" Daenerys wore his tracksuit, too which inflamed his temper even further. "Where are our guys on motorcycles?"

"On their way, sir." Missandei responded.

Robb could see the men in black motorcycles gaining in on them.

Jaime opened the window and instructed them. "Surround her!"

"Permission to shoot sir?" The team leader inquired.

"Civilians are everywhere, chickenshit." Robb yelled at him.

"Killshot is permitted." Jaime countered and the man nodded before accelerating.

 _Fuck._ Robb cursed as sweat began to trickle down his forehead. "It's just Dany! You can't kill her!"

"She's gone rogue. You know the rules, Stark." Jaime chuckled. His expression was pleased when he saw the men catching up on her.

"We have her surrounded sir. Permission to fire." The radio on the car resounded.

"Fire."

____________________

Dany felt the warm bullet plunge through her outer waist and automatically she lost hold on throttle.

Her body flung back and the bike propelled forward up from the rails and down to the speedway below the elevated highway.

Rolling over to reduce impact, blood scattered on the road and men on motorbikes began to surround her with guns between them.

One spoke on his earpiece as he aimed his gun at her. "Ready for killshot, sir."

Out of nowhere, a black SUV skidded on the premises. "Cease fire!" The commander came out, face red with anger. "This is not an execution, Jaime."

Dany turned her eyes to the direction Tyrion was fumingly staring at. She saw Jaime running towards his brother with Robb and Missandei tailing behind him.

Slowly, Dany crawled back until she could feel the guardrail behind her.

"Do not move any further!" Another man warned her.

"You have nowhere to go, Stormborn. Put your hands above your head and walk slowly. You won't be harmed." Tyrion calmly uttered, a hand reaching for her.

She did as she was told putting her hands above her head but did not move an inch to where she stood.  _I can't go back. There's not much time._ She studied her situation on hopes she could escape from this but she can't. Her eyes locked on Robb.  _I can't do this alone._

Robb squeezed Missandei's shoulder leaving her a nod before moving beside Tyrion. "Dany, please, let's talk this through."

"Honeypot, I forgive you for trashing my bike. Now, come home." Jaime rolled his eyes playing along.

On and on, they spoke until time suddenly slowed as her heartbeat slackened with it.

Behind Tyrion, Robb, Jaime and the rest of the men was Missandei nodding at Dany once. Her eyes assertive and lips pressed together.

Dany gave her a subtle nod, ignoring the mumbles of men talking her out of the situation.

Missandei, then, began to mouth the words.  _Five. Four._

And just as it slowed, everything went back to its pace until it shifted faster and faster. She felt her heartbeat exploding.

_Three. Two. One._

Dany held her breath.

_Go._

And on signal, Dany jumped off the guardrail, down to the speedway below them and barely got the chance to hold on to the trim of a trailer truck.

She breathed in relief but still felt her heart on her throat and pain on her stomach as she stared back at them all above her shrinking at the distance between them.  _I'm coming, Jon. Wait for me._

________________________


	26. 24 | OLD GHIS

_______12/13/16_______

WARHEAD DETONATION    
COUNTDOWN   
**34 hrs 18 mins**

The cold dark chamber he was in reminded him of the crypts back in Winterfell where his father and ancestors lay. It's been so long since he's gone there — longer than being trapped in a prison cell. This was his third detainment and probably the last.

The loneliness of dying in a place like this made him think about her.

Of course, there wasn't a single minute where his thoughts didn't drift to figments of Daenerys Targaryen.

It was masochistic to revisit the memories of their fleeting time together but the pain didn't bother him as much as the questions that bottled his mind.  _Do you think about me? Have you been looking for me all this time? Or have abandoned me for good?_

He prayed those questions won't haunt him to his grave. All he could ask for at this moment was to die peacefully.

Above the wailing of the tortured slaves from afar, he heard the metal door open through the narrow hall of the dungeon and footsteps leading to him.

"You're not dead." He spoke numbly at the familiar shadow on the floor.

"Is that how you greet your former lover, Jon Snow?" Her airy raspy voice gave him a chill. So did her red hair as she finally showed herself. It was the first thing that caught his eyes. Even in limited light, it glowed.

At first he felt relieved from guilt. For the first time, his death list crossed off a name. But suddenly, a burst of anger overrode. "How could you?"

"You're asking  _me_?" She chuckled but the hurt in her voice was unmistakable. "As if I was the one who put a bullet to your stomach?"

"You gave me no choice." His jaw clenched and his muscles tightened in the darkness.

"What do you mean you didn't have a choice? You kidnapped that dragon twat because you fancied her and look what her kind did to you?" Her accusing eyes scanned him from head to toe after she stepped closer to the bars that separated them.

"Stop." Jon looked away as his temper began to rise.

"You've always said we're different from them, Jon! That they see us as nothing but flies. You told me we ought to stick together because flies as we are, we can walk under their noses and soon our numbers can destroy them with their aristocratic system. And yet, look at you, dreaming like the little lord you wanted to be!"

His knuckles whitened when he gripped his fists. His veins protruded on his temples.

Speaking through her teeth, she leaned in, placing her face in between the metal bars as she continued. "Tell me, have you tasted her? Did she let you fuck her? Was it all worth it?—"

"Stop!" He stood, eyes pitch black and chest breathing heavily.

In years of knowing him, her fear of his temper had not diminished. It's as if in seconds, he'd shape-shift into a monstrous wolf. "— I didn't join the Nightswatch Enterprises to watch you throw it all away for some bitch, Jon."

Jon sprang forward and Ygritte bolted just in time. The bars rattled upon his grasp. "I haven't! I haven't changed my mind about saving the free folk. Have you? Wasn't that the reason you joined my cause at the beginning!?"

The redhead turned her back sobbing. "How could you be so blind all this time?" And faced him in raging agony. "I was only in it deep because I loved you, Jon."

Jon rested his arms on the horizontal bars and sighed shaking his head. "You joined the enemy I despised. You jeopardized our position in Riverlands, our merchandise where my men have worked hard for and our cause that benefits your people." The cold metal bars against his forehead seemed to have helped in controlling his temper. "All of this and for what, because you loved me?"

"No. Because you chose her." She wiped her tears away and inched closer. Her pools of blue eyes holding his gaze while the tips of their noses almost touching. "You chose her over me who have accepted you even at your worst. When you were broken and begging Mance to take your life because of the guilt—I was there for you, Jon. Not her."

"I thank you for that. I really do." He said sincerely while putting space between them. "But you don't understand—"

"—Oh what don't my wildling brain understand, Jon Snow? What?" Her brows met as they creased once again. The red in her hair burned brighter.

"Her disappearance was why I was broken in the first place, Red." He sat back to where he was before she came. The darkness concealing his emotion brought an ease in showing Ygritte the depth of his longing.

"She doesn't love you the way I do, Jon!" The wildling cried, her hold on the bars steadied her upright as she began to collapse on her knees. Her eyes were pleading. "What do I need to do to be yours, Jon? What does she have that I don't?"

Jon took his time to squat beside her, playing with her hair. He didn't know what to say to make it painless but she had to hear it. "It has always been her, Red. If I had to choose again, I would make the same choice but I'd try my very best not to hurt you again in the process. I am sorry."

"But she's gone and I'm here, Jon." She sobbed, taking his hand from her hair and placing it to her cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Red."

Inhaling a lungful, she huffed forcefully as if it was pain she was letting out. And in a minute she nodded in acceptance. "The Order has played you."

"And I will come after them in time."

Ygritte smiled menacingly in support — the way Jon had missed. It was her spirit—may it be for the good or bad—that made Jon feel dangerous.

"We have to get out of here." He suggested with urgency. It's not his life anymore. There was another and he can't let her die this time.

"We don't need to." A light seemed to flicker in her eyes. Subsequently, with both hands, she grabbed his hand and kissed it. "Jon, work for Grazdan. Just give him what he wants and he'll give you freedom in return. When you're free, we can plan our revenge on the Order of the Seven and save the world."

"What? For what do I owe them? I do not think you have proper knowledge on the culture of the Ghiscari Empire, Red." He took his hand from her. He can't trust her with the truth about his urgency. "You're foolish enough to believe they'd let me go. The city lives on by slavery."

The light disappeared in her eyes. "Do I look like a slave to you?"

"Now that they have me, what is the use of you, then?" He chuckled dryly.

"They took me in when you let me go."

"And in return? They need to drag me here even if it takes a wildling to do so."

Lost for words to defend herself, Ygritte stared blankly at the darkness with a mix of anger and frustration.

"Ms. Ygritte, Master Grazdan wants to speak with you." A slave shackled to the neck appeared by the entrance of the dungeon.

Ygritte stood and numbly said, "I'll be back."

"Run away while you still can." Jon whispered. "Save yourself."

His words paused her from her footsteps but she continued walking out of the door.

_______________________

"Jon Snow is finally ours." Grazdan clapped once in a joyful manner as Ygritte entered the throne room embellished with bronze, copper and other metals.

"He still needs persuading."

"Masters of Old Ghis do not persuade, my dear." Grazdan matter-of-factly looked down on her with his nostrils flaring.

"I can do it for you." She bowed in the hopes of his agreement that torture is not necessary.

"Judging by the way you captured Jon Snow for us?" His eyebrow raised questioningly. "As far as I remember, your plans failed. You caused me the lives of my expensive unsullied soldiers. So why would we appoint you to handling our best asset?"

"We had a deal!" She launched forward and protectively, the two unsullied guards covered their master and aimed their weapons at her.

"The thing about our deal is, it's a fair exchange. You give me, I give you. But have you given me Jon Snow as you promised?" Grazdan signaled his men to stand down and walked down the stairs to get a closer look of her.

"I've given you our artillery stock from Riverlands." She reminded him.

"Indeed. But Jon Snow can reproduce thousands of it, can't he?" He replied.

"If we haven't gone to the Riverlands and if it wasn't for me, Robb Stark wouldn't have followed us and you wouldn't have exchanged a deal with the Order."

"Those were all coincidence, my dear. Advantageous consequences are not considered a proper payment in business." He frowned comically to mock her.

She bit her lip and fidgeted on her stance. "What you have me do, then?"

Grazdan smirked like the rat he was and put a hand on her shoulder. "We might as well have use of you if you take your clothes off."

"Go to hell." Ygritte posed for a punch but the unsullied were too quick to pull her away landing on her bum. And if that wasn't enough, one plunged the gunstock towards her head and she lost consciousness. 

_______12/14/16_______

WARHEAD DETONATION    
COUNTDOWN   
**18 hrs 29 mins**

"Where is she?" Jon queried when the brown man in yellow silk appeared from the door where Ygritte went through yesterday.

His strong perfume— a mix of sweet peaches, alcohol and sandalwood seemed to have fumigated the dungeon in an unflattering way. "Good morning to you, too, Jon Snow." He smiled widely.

The wolf glared at him in darkness that made him clear his throat.

"As for your friend, Ygritte, she's a bit preoccupied with the other masters." Grazdan made an impish expression.

"What have you done with her?" Jon growled, walking closer to the light.

"Now, now. I have done nothing that would sabotage our negotiations, Jon Snow. If I may recall, you left her bleeding to death." He sported a long face in attempt to twist the guilt of his prisoner.

Jon scowled.

"As my lead technician, you are to comply to the regulations and the demand that is beset with it. Do this and you, together with your wildling bride, will be treated kindly. Undermine our kindness and she will be executed in return." He clapped his hands together expecting the wolf to contravene his orders. "So—are we in business?"

"Alright." Jon nodded.

Taken aback by his agreeable reaction, he laughed nervously in suspicion that this may be a trick. "You don't seem so stubborn as I expected you would be. I guess you love your pretty wildling girl after al—"

"A glass of scotch please. I haven't had a drink in a decade. Scratch that, a bottle would do." Jon interrupted his worthless prattle.

"Of course, of course."

Jon was smart. Why would he jeopardize both their lives? Why would he endure torture in his remaining hours of living? "Now, where will you have me?"

"In our lab where you will be assisted by—"

"I work alone." He sternly informed him.

"I'm sure you do. But we don't want to arm the most dangerous man in Westeros by his own lethal inventions, do we?" Grazdan raised a brow.

Jon scoffed in disregard.  _He's not as stupid as I thought._

"Besides, I'm sure you'll grow fond of the boy. He's a genius like his crannogman father. And I've heard your fathers are quite well acquainted. A name might ring a bell?"

Jon gave him a disinterested look — just impatient to get it over with. But unexpectedly, the name caught him off guard.

"His name is Jojen Reed."

_______________________

WARHEAD DETONATION    
COUNTDOWN   
**11 hrs 30 mins**

In the East of Naath, the Basilisk Isles of Sothoryos may be the most treacherous and anarchic islands in the world. Filled with pirates, assassins, torturers, inquisitors, poisoners from Asshai, beasts and maesters who conduct obscene rituals, it was instinctive for common men not to encroach upon such place.

They say its filth and perverse characteristic of trading and smuggling is one frowned upon and ignored by any of its neighboring kingdoms in imposing restraint or censure.

Such as flies and bloodworms swarming around the isles, deaths are commonly frequent. And dying in a place like the Basilisk Isles for anybody who's ought to be somebody is one of the most devalued and degrading means of ascending to the afterlife.

Folklore believed that the Gods scorn the souls of the dead from entering the heavens due to the stench and deformity of their rotting and infested cadavers piled in the bog pits in Basilisk Isles. A poor man's grave as they call it.

So it is accustomed to kill than be killed.

However, such as Vaes Dothrak, firearms are forbidden in the premises. But in contrast to the Dothraki territory, blades are very welcome. This is so because the natives of Basilisk Isles believe men behind guns lack the emotional involvement that men with blades possess.

Thus, danger sharply lurked in the streets and taverns yet it was the easiest passage to Old Ghis for a spy gone rogue.

But that doesn't necessarily mean that Daenerys is out of range from the Order's surveillance team. They know where she is and where she's headed.

That said, it didn't take long before someone was walking her trails on the island. She doesn't know what they look like or how many they were but she could tell from their calm measured footsteps that they weren't that far.

Tailed, she can't accomplish her plans without them sabotaging it before it is manifested. They had to go even if it meant they'd perish.

As she rounded the corner to a dark alley, she could feel their eyes on her back—waiting for a mouse to be trapped.

And finally, she allowed herself to be surrounded.

There were two people on end of the alley—a young skinny man and a Yi Tish woman.  And as expected, another man blocked her on the mouth of the entrance.

They were familiar even without the gold lion emblem subtly worn on their clothing.

The dragon's teal scarf swayed elegantly as it landed on the ground. "I'm a bit insulted that they sent novices to apprehend me."

"Oh, we're not here to apprehend you, agent Stormborn." Her yellow skin glowed as she pulled the helve of her katana sword halfway from it's sheath. It was an intimidating sight for some but a pathetic one for Daenerys. "They put a huge bounty on your head."

"I figured that out the moment I saw little lion cubs tailing me." She chuckled, pulling two hunting knives strapped to both sides of her thighs.

"Yeah, three highly skilled lethal lion cubs, that is." The skinny man smiled wide baring his yellow crooked teeth looking like a mad man.

"Listen, apprehending me would be overambitious. Taking me out—well, that's delusional. Just walk away." Daenerys tried putting some sense to them before she goes full-on Stormborn and black out.

But the young Yi Tish woman launched herself with the katana blade that was too long for the narrow alley. "Enough chit chat!"

Evading, Dany could hear the whooshes and see the glinting blade coming towards her repeatedly. And swiftly, she parries her attacks by crossing her six-inch knives and cutting the girl's wrist and thighs on the process.

The thin man stepped in with a Dothraki arakh swinging and whirling the blade inches from her neck but Dany was too quick to stab his throat that made him step back  and collapse till he choked on his own blood.

And right before she finally disarms the  Yi Tish samurai, the last man—with arms that could probably bend iron bars and crush them into powder— leapt on her in attempts to squelch her bones.

In response while grabbing hold of her new weapon, she thrusted and twisted the katana blade in to his heart before chasing the young woman limping out of the alley. 

"I was buying you and your friends' lives a fucking time—" Dany muttered in annoyance and flicked her knife at her backbone. "—so your bodies won't be dumped in the bog pits. But you leave me no choice."

The woman fell to the ground, her fingers reaching the light outside the alley but Stormborn pulled her leg and flipped her body to get a last look on her small slinky eyes that spelled fury. "There are more of us, bit—"

"Enough chit chat!" Dany mimicked as the katana steel bit into its previous owner's flesh from her neck down to her belly button.

The slushing sound made Daenerys  look away.  She never got used to it even in her years of service in the Order.

But that didn't bother her as much as before. It's the only way to see him— the only one she could think of that matters.

____________________

"I need you to take me to Ghiscar tonight." The teal scarf-covered woman with beguiling violet eyes dropped a bag of gold coins on a table with a heavy thud.

The white bearded man was astonished looking up from the torn maps on his table. "Daenerys. I never thought I'd live to see you again."

With a coy smile, Dany unveiled her scarf that had no use in concealing her identity. A man like Davos Seaworth cannot mistake her violet eyes for anyone else.

"How is Westeros?" He asked with the warm familiar devotion to the Dragon princess.

"I have no time for small talks, Davos. My offer is about to expire." Unlike her words, her tone did not have any hint of discourtesy— it only contained restlessness and desperation.

And Davos understood the urgency saying, "there's no reason for me to refuse it, milady. You have saved my life once and with that, I am indebted to you."

Dany relaxed at his acceptance and sat as Davos beckoned her to take a seat. Her eyes narrowed playfully at him after she surveyed his shabby office with novelties he valued as trophies from circumnavigating the world. "And this is what you've done with your life, Davos of Seaworth?"

"It's the only thing I do best, milady. Smuggling, that is." He shyly admitted.

She cleared her throat and strolled admiring the intricate baubles enclosed in tiny glass boxes. "In six years, I would think you've made a good use of your skills at sea by now."

His eyebrows creased, somehow baffled if she was upset or not. "Your tone of disappointment seems unconvincing, milady. I reckon it has to do with your dire need of my illegal services."

Her eyes questioningly darted immediately to his, brows raised and lips in a tight smirk.

"You are always appreciative of the finer points of bad behavior." He smiled adoringly— like a father would to his daughter.

"What do you mean?" She chuckled.

"You pretend to have a cold heart but somehow you listen to us, bad men. You were never quick to judge for the likes of me."

Her throat dried consequently. His words brought her thoughts of Jon. How she distanced herself from him at first but the more she did, the more she found herself attracted to Jon and the danger and history that clung to him like perfume.

Jon uncovered layers of her identity suppressed and forgotten deep within her that she began to see a clearer view of who she is.

Bad men didn't lure her in. The fascination of their dark complexities just seemed naturally innate to her that she kept reservations of pardon and kindness for men like her father—her father who inherited the life he truly wished he hadn't.

And just as he was, she was her father's child. A dragon. She was no different from him nor she was from Rhaegar.

She stared at Davos— his creased forehead, his solemn face and constant wary stare.  _Does a criminal like him deserve to die?_

At that fleeting moment, it didn't feel right allowing the Chaos to wipe out some of those men who found themselves in the life they didn't ask for. It didn't feel right again.

She noticed Davos' curious stare at her unmoving state of mind.

Shaking her head, she responded after recalling his words. "Perhaps. And I suppose we wouldn't have met if you weren't smuggling onions in Dragonstone, have we?"

He nodded and smiled endearingly. "You were so young and now you've grown so beautifully."

"And now you've grown so old." She chuckled lightly.

His gray-white hair shining under the white fluorescence as he shook laughing. "Ah, yes. Yes I have."

And as the little peaceful comfort began to sink in to her senses, she stood abruptly like waking up from a dream of falling. She can't allow herself that comfort yet. She won't allow it till she sees him again. "We meet at the docks in five hours. Best be on my way."

"We have plenty of time." Davos stood from his chair just as she was about to flap the curtain and go.

"I'd have to bargain some explosives and blades." Dany reasoned.

"My partner's a knife collector. Stay for a bit." Davos pleaded holding a pot of boiling hot water and peppermint leaves. "Tea?"

"I can't stay too long in one place. I'm being followed." Her violet eyes intently on his.

"By who?"

"The Order."

Davos stepped back, surprised and a bit amused by the news. "Aren't you one of them?"

"Once. But not anymore." She lowered her gaze.

"I knew you had it in you." Davos of Seaworth nodded at her with no ounce of judgement but pride.

"I'll see you at the docks." Wrapping her teal scarf, she stepped out returning a meaningful nod before heading out.

_____________________

WARHEAD DETONATION    
COUNTDOWN   
**06 hrs 08 mins**

The night was about to cascade upon the skies and Daenerys has not found a blade merchant anywhere since its demand outside The Basilisk Isles began to dwindle in the influence of the Nightswatch Enterprises.

Dany could not decide whether she'd be proud of Jon or be annoyed at this moment.

She has two trench knives and a katana sword and that wasn't enough for the hundreds of guards that surround the Old Ghis stronghold.

In her thorough search, she began to notice:

Pirates—the boisterous and utterly frivolous population that make up the island began to reel drunkenly and pass out in the streets.

Merchants—began to close their windows for the night is not the time for trade which peeved her deeply.

Assassins—

She turned her eyes to the direction of a slowly paced but purposeful strides of a man lurking in the shadows.

Her senses began to heighten at who's eyes were on her. She had to move quickly but not enough to make a scene.

Assassins, after all, live for the chase. And she has to wait until he's close enough to take her and that's the time to—

"Who sent you?!" Daenerys clasped the man's neck and vigorously knocked his head on the wall of a dark alley. The tip of her blade were centimeters away from gouging his stomach and letting his insides fall out.

"No one." His teeth shone in the dark as he smiled cockily. His hands up in surrender. He was dressed casually in a white polo shirt and khakis as if he just came from Dorne.

"Then why are you following me?" She dug her nails on his neck to get him talking.

"A pretty lady in Sothoryos is not a common sight." He smiled again, this time his blue eyes twinkled and his dark black hair were disheveled as Dany's eyes began to adjust in the light.

"I swear this pretty lady will be the last you'll ever see!" She threatened, the cold blade finally in contact with his stomach. Its tip piercing through the fabric of his while button-down.

That's when he realized she cannot react positively to flattery. "No, wait!"

"Then speak!" Her voice loudly unfit to her small stature. The man may be towering her but her clawing fingers never slipped from his neck.

"There were three men—th—they killed my partner, Davos. They're looking for you." He stuttered as he started to break a sweat, giving a sheen on his forehead.

"How can I be so sure you didn't kill him yourself?" She sure didn't show it but the pain of a friend's passing scorched her heart.

"Because I slayed those fucks. Now, who are you and what do you want from my partner Davos?" He reacted a bit sternly and more confident now that she eased up a bit and pulled the knife away.

"Daenerys Targaryen." She spoke, taking a step back cautiously. "I need passage to and from Old Ghis."

The man snorted, then laughed, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye. "Old Ghis? What's so sp—"

His light demeanor towards the Old Ghiscari Empire was unexpectedly comforting to her. She pulled her knife again, aiming at his eyes. "You will take me."

He backed away and shook his head disapprovingly at her rough character. "Sheesh, woman. I'll take you."

"Your price?" She raised a brow on her query while she cleaned the blood off of her six inch knives.

"A kiss would suffice." The tantalizing curve of his lips widened.

"I prefer half the gold I intended for Davos — unless you disagree, then we're going to have a bigger problem." She returned the smirk while she wiped the blood stains on his white polo.

"That would do, too." He agreed while eyeing the stain on his favorite shirt.

"Good. I'll award the other half if you aboard his body and give him a proper burial in his hometown."

"I'm two steps ahead of you, baby. But I'd gladly slow down just to be closer to you." He narrowed his eyes and pouted as if he was showing her his most attractive angle.

Dany rolled her eyes as they began walking back to Davos' tent. Although, she cannot deny his comeliness, his arrogance makes her want to impale him by the bogs. "What'd you say your name was again?"

"I haven't." He chuckled as if he cannot take a hint of her hostility. "It's Daario Naharis, the man of your dreams."

"Well, Daario Naharis, I want you to shut your pie holes and show me the faces of who's responsible for Davos' death." She spoke calmly in perfect enunciation as a princess would have. 

That made Daario speechless but her charm didn't last long when they reached his tent.

There he was, lifeless on wagon.

Dany felt the anguish crush her soul in an instant. The resentment she had for Jaime Lannister reflected on her self. She felt like a hypocrite just then.  _I am no different from that pompous motherfucker, am I? There I was thinking I was doing the right thing by allowing the man I love into killing millions of criminals and yet here I am now, mourning for one._

Davos' expression was peaceful which surprised Dany. He always had a wary look on his face. It comforted her that even in death, he's found serenity. But that was not enough to keep her uncertainty of Jon Snow's plans from spreading into her senses.

Dany kissed the old man's cheeks.

They scanned the small tent and it was bathed in blood. It bewildered her how the splatters reached in the far off nooks.

Soon she realized it wasn't Davos' blood. The knife that had killed him remained pierced through his chest. Thus, it was the blood of the three mutilated men.

She glanced at their killer — Daario Naharis — who cannot be trusted and also had a big charming smile on his face with eyes glinting, staring at her like a teenage boy in love.

She shook her head.

Daario Naharis does not possess the cunning skill of an assassin. He is a messy butcher who apparently had time to clean himself, load Davos' dead body in the cart and follow her.

"Good-looking bunch." He commented whilst admiring his work. "This one, he's prettier than my sister." He pointed with the tip of his boot.

It was Rickon— she recognized him instantly. His right hand was apparently lost — detached from its owner.

It only took a second before she found his severed hand still clasping a butterfly knife stuck to a wooden dresser.

_He's not trained in combat. What was he doing here?_

"Why were they looking for you?" Daario disrupted her train of thought with outrageous theories about why Dany was on the run. "Does daddy want her rebellious daughter back? Or you're running away from an ugly oaf who wants to marry you?"

She ignored him, focusing on the bodies and the gold lion emblem in their clothing.  _These are all Jamie's men._ "We have to go. Now."

_______________________

"Please tell me this is the vessel to the actual speedboat?" She eyed the uncommonly small sailboat with black sails and evaluated the wind caressing her cheeks. Automatically, she deduced the setback of her plans.

"A speedboat farts like a fat bitch. It's not for smuggling." Daario grunted as he loaded Davos' body in by the cargo below deck.

"And our time of arrival is?" Raising her chin bossily, she stepped onboard.

"Don't you mock this black beauty. Davos and I, we sail with the wind and there's ample of it tonight." He smiled widely admiring the clear skies.

"What happens when I escape? How do we leave in haste with a fucking sailboat?" Her brows raised.

"That has been my job for years — leaving in haste. And now, I'm the best smuggler  _alive_ , darling." He laughed, entailing that Davos' death gave him the title.

Dany grimaced, definitely not finding it amusing.

"What? Too soon?"

"Humor me." She rolled her eyes.

His smile widened, carrying a sack of potatoes over his shoulders. "Trust me. I'll be at the Ghiscari docks waiting for you and have your kisses by sunrise."

"Well, aren't you a dreamer, Daario Naharis?" Sarcasm was definitely in her tone when she set the bag of weapons on deck.

"What? A lot can happen in with a man and a beautiful woman in a boat. We all have dreams."

"Yes. I always wanted a pretty necklace of a cock hanging 'round me neck." Dany's snarky defiance seemed more convincing as she sharpened her throwing knives with a whetstone.

"C'mon, a man just lost his partner. Be nice." He said, untying the ropes that kept them at bay.

She paused from fastening a suppressor to a handgun. Her eyes lowering. "I lost a friend, too." She said, eyeing the lethal weapons she'd prepared.  _Do I even need all these? What makes me any different from all of them?_

"Makes me wonder, how could a highborn girl make  _friends_  with a smuggler like Davos Seaworth of Flea Bottom?"

She set the bag of weapons aside and strapped the katana blade on her back and a watch she stole from the Order on her escape. Finally, she answered Daario dismissively. "It's a long story."

"We've got nothing but time." He urged as they began to sail with the tide.

_____________________

It was in a lab (inside a bullet-proof glass cylinder they put him in) when he first saw this young small-statured man. He dare say it was Howland Reed himself reborn from the ashes but it wasn't. He is much as Dr. Reed as he isn't Dr. Reed.

Jojen was awkward and skinny with arms too long for his built. But there, in his small intelligent face, Jon could see an inner vitality masked by his physical appearance.

Somehow, Jon's thoughtlessness about his imminent death suddenly evaporated when another innocent soul came into view. Jojen Reed changed the game.

_This boy needs to see what his father had always aspired — to see the calm after the chaos where the world shall live again. His father will live through him such as my own lived through mine._

Jon may not forgive himself if he'd let this boy die without doing anything about it. Howland Reed might not give him peace in his afterlife.

"Could you pass the blowtorch?" Jon instructed as they began the process of building the weapon's body.

Jojen handed it wordlessly. He was a silent kid whom have thoughts buried deep within him so it surprised Jon to hear him speak for the first time after hours of being introduced. "Um, Jon?"

"Yes, Jojen?"

"Have you — have you met my father?" He stuttered.

"Yes, I have." Jon smiled benignly.

"What was he like?"

It took awhile before Jon could come up for an answer that gave justice to how he's viewed the famous scientist. "He was a revolutionary man."

The boy was taken aback. It's as if he haven't heard his dad being referred to so kindly. But then he lowered his eyes. "And he died because of it."

"No. He died because small-minded people with authority dismiss the possible danger that lies ahead." Not meeting his eyes, Jon continued working on the gun's structure. "They thought what our so-called 'horrific tales' will just vanish if our fathers perished. But they're wrong."

"How so?"

"Because they should've killed us, too." He said smiling.

"Us?" Jojen raised a brow.

Jon dropped the torch, took his shoulder and leveled with his sullen eyes. "Will you avenge your father with me?"

"I've heard about you Jon Snow. I've heard you're the best fighter in Westeros. But we're trapped here and they have my sister in the dungeon."

Now, Jon fully understood why the boy's been fully trusted to eye on him. "I have a plan. We'll get your sister back, I promise."

The hesitance in Jojen's eyes were unmistakable but he knew they'd rather die than rot in the dungeon. It was also just a matter of time too before her sister will be raped by the rats who call themselves masters.

"Do you trust me?" Having two more people to protect scintillated the fire in Jon.

"Surprisingly, yes. With all my life." Jojen smiled with a glimmer of hope mixed with fear in his dark eyes.

_____________________

WARHEAD DETONATION    
COUNTDOWN   
**03 hrs 26 mins**

"There's a passage way here that will lead you to the palace." He spoke through the darkness of the cave that they sailed in. "It's their sewage system."

"I've sneaked in through sewers a million times before but I never got used to the stench." The disgust in her tone was not evident, though.

"Not to worry, it ran dry years ago. The place is in ruins from bankruptcy."

"Then there's no money in the Old Ghis."

"Exactly."

"So why do you smuggle here, then?"

"We don't. We come for the slaves. Davos and I bring them whatever food we could give from time to time. Their masters cannot provide them anymore."

She was silent for a moment. Her mind was running all over the place and her heart was torn in between. If there was one thing she was sure about, it would be:  _there is good in the bad and bad in the good. So how do you separate the black and the white from the gray?_

Davos was a criminal but he was charitable. Jaime Lannister works for the good but he is a merciless and ruthless agent. Aerys was a ferocious mobster but he was a good father.

Jon was the only person she couldn't place. Is he bad doing good or good doing bad?

Dany's moral compass was on a haywire but she had to keep control for the sake of her mission. Apart from how she yearns to see him again, she needed to know the targets he's planned to plummet at.  _All those innocent people needed to be warned._

Daario felt an uncomfortable silence that made him wonder if it was something he'd said. "You okay?"

"No. I mean yeah." She looked around trying to change the mood. "Um— how do you navigate with all this darkness?"

"I follow the light."

"What light?"

But Daario didn't respond. He waited until they got basked by the blue light to answer her query. 

"Glo—glow worms." She stuttered, holding back her breath. Jon may have showed it to her the first time but it reminded her of Rhaegar, too.

"Pretty, isn't it?"

She nodded absently at him. The lights got her remembering her brother — his beliefs and his principles— it brought her back to the very beginning. And right at that moment, something was brewing inside of her.

" 'You sure you don't need any help?"

"No." She smirked, now feeling sure of herself.

He nodded as he beckoned her towards of what looked like the end of the drain pipe. "The tide will rise in the next hour. Half of the sewage will be submerged in water so I have to wait for you by the docks. It's far from the palace and you can't reach in time by foot. But I'm pretty sure you know what to do then."

She smiled, seeing the mild worry in the eyes of a stranger she just met. "I'll see you 11:30."

"11:30." He repeated.

Turning her tiny flashlight, Daenerys followed the underground sewage system bent on her knees with steps light and fast.

It took 15 minutes before she arrived at a man hole of a dried up grand fountain. Peeking around, she didn't see anything interesting. It was unguarded just as Daario had told her.

But she couldn't mistake how grand the palace inside was and how it's deteriorating with age. She wondered how it would've appeared in its prime.

Sneaking around the building by the dried up garden to avoid the beams from the search lights, she noticed the armed men patrolling on the roof and stronghold surrounding the palace.

Dressed in black, Dany's been in this very situation for countless of times before that she sort of missed it. Sneaking in has always been something she's good at.

Based on her experience, she already knew what to do. She needs to take these watchers all out so nobody squeaks on her and it'll be easier when they escape.

Stealthily, she either knocks them unconscious through strangling if close range and shooting sedative darts if they're too far to reach. And the standard operating procedure was to hide the bodies — in vacant rooms, broom closets and dark corners that are usually disregarded. It was a lot of work but it's the safest way.

The only rule was not to get caught because when the alarm goes off, everything goes fast forward.

______________________

Jon could not stop his eyes from glancing at the digital clock on his desk every five minutes as if he acquired OCD for working nonstop in the sweat shop of the once celebrated and widely renowned city of the Ghiscari desert.

But it wasn't just a ritualized and repetitive compulsion to stare at the clock every now and then. It was the nuclear missile that's about to plummet on their asses in less than three hours he's worried about.

He took a sip of the liquor he requested. It wasn't as good as his preferred brand but it was enough to keep him sane.

Come to think of it, if all of his escape plans goes to shit, does he really deserve such a merciful death? Of all the ways Jon thought he'd die, this didn't even make it to the list.

The list was filled with gruesome tortures and mutilations that he believes he rightfully deserves. But how ironic is it that he was possibly going to get barbecued by his own grill?

 _It's not that I'm complaining._ He shook his head smiling halfheartedly as he typed on the codes that programs his very last weapon designed before dying in irony.

"Are you scared?" Jojen disrupted his thoughts.

Jon laughed boisterously hearing the choice of adjective the boy had referred to him.

Jojen narrowed his eyes, a nervous smile curved on his lips. "What?"

"No one's ever asked me before, is all."

The boy tensed, somewhat unconsolably disappointed with his carefree answer.  "You don't get scared? Don't you have fears? Tell me, can you walk through walls, too? 'Cause that's what we'll need to get out of this fish bowl. Is there something else you're not telling me about? Don't you think I notice your incessant fixation on the clock?"

"Kid, I've told you the plan. Plans fail everyday but we have no choice but to succeed." Jon put a hand on his shoulder. "And of course, I do have fears. I sweat and I bleed. You know I'm not a good person. I have murdered people with my bare hands but I'm no villain and I know damn well I'm no hero. But you have to trust me. We may not get out of this in one piece but I'll do everything I can."

"I'm sorry. I just can't lose her. She's the only family I have left."

"I know. Let's just finish this." Jon continued programming the weapon but what he didn't intend on mentioning was another plan cooking in his brain. When he makes sure of the boy, his sister and Ygritte's safety, he aims to come back for the master of the Ghiscari Empire.  _Grazdan deserves to die by my own filthy hands_.

And at long last, after hitting the glorious and final  _enter_  button on the keyboard, a positive beep resonated with two words popping on screen.

ENCRYPTION COMPLETE.

He took one proud look at his new invention and smirked at how foolish they were to let him manufacture one on his own with the son of a genius —done in record time.

They unconsciously weaponized him because what they did not know, the gun is unorthodox. It didn't need ammo like the guns they are used to making.

And it was purposely made in such a manner that it can melt bulletproof glass and any solid materials they surrounded them in. But that didn't emphasize that it won't run out of power. It will. He'll just have to improvise along the way.

"Time to test this. Are you ready?" He asked his lab partner whilst calculating the time left and how to effectively use it.  _Two hours._

"What happens if I say no?" Jojen jokingly narrowed his eyes.

"Just about—exactly the same thing."

The teenage boy chuckled. "Then, to hell with it. Yes, I'm ready."

Jon gave him a pat on the back before strapping his weapon on. He could feel the guards' eyes on him as he stepped closer to the glass door.

"Sir, please lower the weapon and step away from the glass door." One henchman warned him below the stairs.

"You know, kid, one thing about bullet proof glass is that they're impenetrable on both sides." Jon snickered.

"One more step and we will not hesitate to shoot." Another one yelled.

Jon taunted one more step.

"I repeat. We will not hesita—" the man below collapsed. It was so sudden that Jojen didn't notice the weapon fired at all. The only proof was the small melted hole on the glass.

In response, they rained bullets on them but the glass was left unscratched.

"It's bulletproof, fuckers!" Jojen hollered feeling the pump of blood in his veins.

"Surrender or be killed." Jon warned but the unsullied guards didn't say a word.

They stood ground as Jon continued to shoot. One by one Jojen saw their bodies collapse. No one was spared —he understood what Jon meant when he said he was in the middle ground of good and evil.

"Shit." Jon cursed.

"What?" Jojen warily queried.

"It is losing power." He said showing the amount of gamma remaining after kicking the poriferous glass door that fell apart in pieces.

"The gamma they provided was so scarce." Jojen followed him as they walked down the steps. 

"Take this. Stay behind me." Jon handed him the gamma weapon and a pistol from the fallen men.

"How do we open the door?" He motioned at the tall metal door that kept them in.

"Now, we wait."

"Do you have to kill them?"

"We kill them before they kill us, Jojen."

 _"What's going on there?!"_ The voice came from intercom speaker.

Jon was not shaken. He was as calm as a man strolling on a beach picking up sea shells when he was actually picking up a rifle, collecting the fully loaded ammunition magazines from the henchmen, sliding them in his pockets and his trousers and protectively covering Jojen as they hid on the platform above the door.

The door slid open and one, two, three men came in oblivious that the two were looking down on them.

Jojen was about to shoot when Jon stopped him. "If we shoot them now, the rest outside will close the door. We have to lure them in."

The boy nodded obediently and Jon was right. More of them came rushing inside.

Jon shot the first man closest to the door and before the others could register where the shooter was, Jon jumped down to shoot three more heads and went in close range by taking a tactical knife from one of them and slashing every thing that came his way.

Jojen was covering him firing on the men who aimed at his lab partner. It was all in a rush, he could hardly see Jon's movements — only men collapsing one after the other.

"Let's go get your sister." He said when he was the only man left standing. "More of them are coming this way. Reload." He instructed as they ran to where the dungeon was.

When they found it, Jon protected the door while Jojen went inside to find his sister.

Three guards patrolling walked down the hallway and rattled to see Jon Snow free. Two of them started charging on Jon and one was nervously trying to aim and not cause a friendly fire.

Jon shot the two easily and used one as a human shield.

The henchman kept shooting aimlessly.

Out of the blue, a person he thought was Jojen or Meera bursted out the door. He instinctively tried to protect. It was at that moment he knew he made the wrong move.

As a result, he got shot on the side of his stomach only to realize that it was an old slave he was protecting.

The henchman ran and Jon's bullets could not catch him anymore.  _Shit!_

Jojen and Meera came out with a crowd of slaves who dispersed separately in all directions.

"What took you so long?" Jon covered his wound.

"We've freed the slaves." Meera, a black haired beauty with a boyish face answered him. The resemblance of her father was quite uncanny.

"That's not part of the plan!" He whisper-screamed in annoyance as he dragged the two in search for an exit.

The alarm resonated as what Jon expected when one of the henchmen escaped his shots. That would mean more will come for them and more had to die.

______________________

"Fuck!" Dany grunted under her breath by the sound of the alarm. She thought she was furtive enough in hiding the bodies she's tranquilized using her wrist watch that shoots a sedative compound.

But of course, who wouldn't notice the disappearance of the more than half of the guards on patrol?

A woman's muffled scream and heaving caught her attention from the tall open window below her. Its curtains hung freely in and out from the desert wind.

"Shut up cunt!" She heard a man say in High Valyrian.

"Let's teach this wilding bitch a lesson!" Another one said.

With the alarm set off, she knew she had to move quickly but she can't just let this go.

"She can scream all she wants. Nobody's going to hear." The voice followed a slap and then a grunt from the woman.

In light footsteps, she scaled the roof and dropped as noiselessly as possible to the terrace where the particular window was.

Her eyes widened in horror to the sight she saw behind the curtain.

A woman, red of hair, shackled and bent on her knees as three Ghiscari masters took turns on her. Her nipples were bleeding and her buttocks red and bruised as the men pleasured themselves behind her. Her face showed when the man pulled her hair up roughly.

Daenerys recognized her immediately.

In a split second and without hesitation, she lashed her katana blade with furious anger to the backside of the man approximately closest to her. And as if it wasn't enough, she impaled him through the spine which bathed her arms with blood. Some of it made tiny red spots on her ivory white skin.

The image automatically sent the two masters in a shivering panic.

"Take one more step to the door and I swear I will cut your little cocks off." She threatened in High Valyrian while aiming her sword to herd them to the corner away from the door which she now locked.

In her peripheral vision, she saw Ygritte unshackle and cover herself up before taking the shotgun hanging from the wall.

"I'll take it from here." She spoke. Her face was stained with blood, bruises and dried tears. Her blue eyes refused to meet Dany's violet ones. It filled with wrath as it stared at the men who raped and tortured her.

"Are you—"

Ygritte didn't let her finish her question when she pulled the trigger aimed at the man's cock. Blood and flesh flew in pieces instantly and the man wailed in pain. "I can handle this."

"Alright. But you have to know, this place will blow up by the hour. Get to the docks when you're finished here. There's a boat with black sails waiting. I have to find Jon. Do you know where he could be?"

"In the lab. The giant metal door across the grand staircase."

Dany ran fast. She heard another set of gunshots from the room she came from but that didn't phase her. All she yearned for was to see him again.

There were bodies everywhere —dead by bullets and a strange weapon that left burnt holes on their heads.

Of course, she thought of no one else responsible for this.  _He's on a rampage._

Dany leapt when she saw the giant metal door across the staircase. "Jon!" She called his name as she reached inside.

Subsequently, the metal trapdoor descended loudly behind her —trapping her inside the lab surrounded by more dead soldiers.

"No. No. No!" Trying to open it in panic, she reached for the machine gun closest to her and kept spewing bullets but it was too thick to penetrate. The door was encrypted and can only be opened from the outside. "No! Please! Open this door!"

______________________

When they got to the long garage of the Old Ghiscari palace, it troubled him how there were no men outside. It was odd being that easy but he ignored the thought away.

Jon pulled Jojen's shirt to make sure his instructions are comprehended. "Pick those weapons up and protect yourselves. Go further to the beach and wait for me there!"

"What? We go out together, Jon!" Jojen insisted and Meera grasped on his arm protectively.

"It'll be quick. I just have to find Red." He reasoned. "Can you drive?"

"You're bleeding!" Meera raised the flap of his jacket to reveal the bloody left side of his stomach.

It hurt consciously remembering that he got shot. "I can take it."

Meera nodded and shared a useful information. "She must be on the second floor of the East Wing. That's where they took me."

Both men stared at her in concern.

"I'm okay now. Thank you." Meera gave him a brief meaningful look before pulling Jojen discordantly to the unmanned desert jeep parked outside.

Jon stared as they drove away under the starry skies that meets with the horizon. When they were far enough, he snatched a watch from an unconscious guard, strapped it on his wrist and set the timer at least 10 minutes before the palace blows up ablaze.

There were still ample of time to kill Grazdan and find Ygritte. In fact, he wouldn't be surprised if both of them had escaped or died already judging from the number of bodies scattered all over the palace. But he still stayed. There was a part of him that was intrigued of dying.

Before he started his hunt, something caught his dark eyes. It was almost microscopic that he had to make a double take before noticing the thin needle-like bullet punctured on the guard's neck. It alarmed him. Somebody else, whatever the intentions were, was there with him.  _Could it be you?_

All of a sudden, the air was different. The possibility of her presence provided a sense of longing along with an upcoming disappointment was just waiting to kick him in the balls. So he ignored the feeling anyway.

On the East Wing, it was quiet apart from the occasional slaves that come and pilfer whatever is left valuable. But most of them just run away when they see him.

Upstairs was a series of rooms on a narrow hallway. He's never been there before but there were bodies hidden in them with the same needle on their necks. Some of the guards wake up in a daze that they hardly notice Jon.

One room was strange from the rest because it was as if painted with blood which presumably came from the two Ghiscari masters who lay dead and monstrously decapitated.

This confused him. Had two different people attacked the palace at the same time he and Jojen started the mutiny?

He shook his head. It was a crime scene too ambiguous to trace but it mattered too little for Jon since the vicinity will be cleansed by the fires of his nuclear bomb anyway.

Losing hope in finding Ygritte, Jon went down on the grand staircase surprised to see the woman by the lab's giant metal door.

"Red!"

Ygritte was startled to see him. "Jon."

"What happened?" He scanned her face and her bloody clothes. "We're you shot?"

"No. Let's just go. We can escape through the port before this place goes to ruins permanently."

Jon almost wondered how Red knew that the place was going to blow but he assumed he just misunderstood her statement.

"So who's behind the door?" He asked, noticing the sound of gunshots fired inside.

"Just some guards. Let's go." She insisted but they suddenly heard helicopter rotors from the roof.

They both looked up.

"Jon." She held his arm, trying to catch his attention.

Instantaneously like a rabid wolf, Jon ran grabbing a pistol from the floor before storming up the stairs.

Ygritte followed him but glanced back at the door just to make sure it stays closed.  _You've saved me but it's not enough for you to take him away from me._

When she reached the roof, it turned out that Grazdan was running for his life from being showered by bullets but he still managed to escape on a helicopter even from being shot twice.

Jon was growing mad when he tried to spring and reach the helicopter but Ygritte was just in time to prevent him from falling from 80feet and killing himself.

"Jon, stop! We'll get him back. His head will be on a spike." She held him over his shoulders. But he pushed her away, making her fall on her back.

He disappeared back inside for a moment only to return with rocket launcher. Stepping on the ledge, he aimed perfectly at the chopper.

The explosion on the night sky was majestic.

______________________

WARHEAD DETONATION    
COUNTDOWN   
**00 hrs 43 mins**

"I'm telling you kids, if your friends aren't coming in —" Daario checked his watch — "13 minutes time, I'm sailing with or without you."

"Adults and their uptight schedules —" Meera rolled her eyes as she sat on a barrel of beer.

"Meera! Don't mock the man. Each minute counts. He could die anytime soon." Jojen kept a straight face on the corner of the main deck.

Meera giggled. She's recovering really well thanks to Jojen who's habit is making her laugh.

"Oye! Get off my boat." Daario pushed the two back to the wharfage.

They were sniggering but refusing to leave. "Okay, okay! We're sorry. They're on their way any minute now."

A blast of what seemed like a helicopter exploding in the sky rocked the boat violently. The three stared in amazement.

"Would you look at that! What a pretty sight." Daario sighed.

"Not that pretty if your lady was in the chopper after all." Meera jested and back to where she sat minutes ago.

Jojen was also back on the corner of the main deck.

Daario huffed a laborious breath and tried pushing them out again. "Form a line and slowly disembark. Thank you. Don't come back ever again."

"Please forgive my sister. Nobody actually thinks you have a lady to wait for." Jojen added.

"Why you little —"

"They're here!" Meera screamed as the land rover drifted to a stop by the wharf. 

A man, with hair as black as the night, came out of the driver's seat. He was dressed poorly but there was something about his comely face that gave off that important-looking persona — something that gets on Daario's nerves.

A woman coming out of the passenger seat set his teeth on edge of anticipation — wishing to find that it was Daenerys but it wasn't. She had hair so red, it seemed on fire.

They entered the boat casually. The man ruffled the boy's hair and said something to the girl who smiled.

It took a moment before Daario noticed the fiery woman staring at him impatiently. "What are you waiting for boatman?"

"Who the fuck do you think you are prancing 'round my deck like you own it? Get off my boat!" Daario took out one of his knives.

"Pay him. How much do you want?" Jon leaned in on the edge of the boat staring at the palace on sand in a distance.

"You cocky son of bitch, I'm not interested in your money."

Ygritte pulled out Jon's pistol from his back pocket and aimed it at Daario. She looked tensed. "Not interested in money, huh? How about your life?"

"Chill, wait a second." Daario dropped his knife and held his hands up in surrender. "I've been booked, okay? She'd kill me, too, if I'm not here."

"Bullshit! Throw him off board, Jon. We can sail this thing." Ygritte suggested.

But Jon was not paying attention especially when a bag with a seal of the Order tucked in the corner caught his attention.

"No it's true." Meera interrupted. "He says she'll come in about eight minutes."

"Just eight minutes, okay? If she doesn't show up, she told me to go."

Jon's heart was beating faster. "Who's  _she_?"

The wildling's blue eyes widened in terror. "Let's go Jo—!"

"It's Daenerys." Daario answered. "Do you know her?"

Not another beat, Jon jumped out the boat and onto the wharf when Ygritte caught up with him. 

"Jon! Wait. It's too late. The place is going to blow!"

" _Going to blow_? Hm? Who told you?" Jon closed the distance between them and grasped her neck. "You knew, didn't you?"

"I'm sorry." She choked as his grip on her neck tightened. Her tears were flowing rapidly in fear seeing Jon's eyes darken.

"You are dead to me." Letting go of her roughly sent her falling on her knees wheezing for breath as she sobbed.

______________________

In the high ceiling room with melted glass and burnt flesh combined, the exhaust could not eliminate the offensively unpleasant odor. Daenerys could feel her breakfast this morning bottling up inside her pipeline.

She tried keeping herself from vomiting her guts out by attempting all the possible ways to open the hideous door but when that didn't work, she gave up. Instead, she studied the notes on paper on the long desk. She was sure it was Jon's handwriting but there was someone else's, too with corrections on his trial and error calculations.

A glance back on her wrist watch, and her heart almost sank.

**00 hrs 26 mins**

When all hope was lost, the door ascended slowly which revealed one man standing behind it.

Dany's heart stopped beating.

______________________


	27. 25 | THE DAWN

WARHEAD DETONATION    
COUNTDOWN   
**00 hrs 41 mins**

The door ascended to reveal the man, known for his notorious golden set of hair, stepped forward to greet her expression of terror. "Expecting someone else?"

Her eyes were fierce as the flood of immense hatred consumed her. "Actually, you're just the person I wanted to see."

"Is that so?" He chuckled, casually walking towards her — only to stop a few feet away.

Her brow raised, voice stern — as she took one good look at her nemesis. "So the Order's into bounty hunting now?" She asked, recalling her adventure in the Basilisk Isles.

"I call it an incentive program of pursuing fugitives." He explained while his fingers combed his iconic gold blonde hair.

"A fancy way to call it." Her head slightly tilted to the side with mockery in her tone.

"The kids love it." Jaime seemed to be enjoying their snarky back and forth of a dispute as much as he wanted to get in her nerves.

"Does commander know about this?" She asked, blatantly concerned if the Order was not as it used to be.

" _Does commander_ —?" He mimicked her, offended by the question of authority. "My brother's hands are full at the moment."

"What's keeping him occupied?"

"And why should I tell a rogue spy?"

"It's not so much of a secret that you underestimate me. Without a doubt, I wouldn't live to tell tales." Her voice was softer, as she walked to the table and looked back at him with alluring violet eyes.

Jaime smiled menacingly. "That is correct. I'd love to share on what I wish was a definitive ploy to eliminate rogues like you but it's nothing close to that. You'd probably die of boredom."

"Try me." She challenged.

He walked up the little staircase to get closer to his prey with the long table between them. "What concerns me though is how you escaped, stole my bike and left it burning on the sidewalk. It was Robb who helped you, was it?"

"No." She denied.

Jaime smirked widely as if he just detected the lie in Daenerys' tongue. "Hmm. Speaking of that Northern dolt, his bastard brother — where is he?"

"I don't know." She honestly didn't but even if she knew, she'd say the same.

"I thought he —." Jaime caught the flash of sadness in her eyes and began sniggering hysterically. "Was he the one who locked you in?"

Daenerys didn't want to believe that but nonetheless, her heart sank just as her mind welcomed the possibility.

"Oh sweet, Mother, Warrior, Stranger! Look at his effect on you." He chuckled again, ridiculing her yielding heart. "I was hoping I'd find both of you together. It would've made my job a lot easier."

"Easier, alright. Easier death wish for an old man." She spoke through her teeth, her temper getting the best of her.

"Oh, honeypot. This old man may surprise you. I still got party tricks off my sleeves." He swaggered, tossing his rifle at the farthest corner of the room.

Dany chuckled, partly amused, annoyed and perplexed at the same time by his act of disarming himself. "What are you doing?"

"Proving my point." He stretched his arms without his grin disappearing from his seductive expression.

"Big mistake. It was the only advantage you had." She bluffed, not forgetting that Jaime Lannister was ranked number one in the Order's list of lethal agents.

"I'm not the kind of asshole who shoots unarmed girls." He snickered again, motioning at the empty magazines and bullet shells on the ground that she wasted on the metal door. "I'd very much like to use my hands and squeeze the life out of you. And besides, I have a reputation to uphold — other than killing your  _father_.

Dany could feel her blood boil in enragement.

Jaime could tell by tightness of her grip and the fierceness of her eyes that he was about to wake the dragon. "I hate to be an ass but I honestly enjoyed it seeing his life dwindling away — including that old smuggler? Davos, was it?"

"Fuck you!" Dany charged in furious anger at Jaime waiting for her to attack.

But instead, she grabbed a book and threw it at him only to divert his attention from Dany, who, in a split second, landed an uppercut to his jaw which sent him stepping back to regain his balance. And without taking another breath, she propelled a kick which was immediately deflected by his right hand.

On her way to throw another jab, he unforeseenly caught her arm and shoulder with both hands and threw her to the wall of broken glass that shattered on the ground taking her with it.

Jaime jumped to smash his foot to her face but Dany blocked it in time using both of her forearms and without warning, kicked him in the groin.

He groaned in pain stepping away from her to clear space between them and give him time to cool down. "You play dirty, you little bitch."

But Dany ran towards him preparing for another attack. In a round house kick that might have separated his head from his body, he parried by hitting her knees with a detached leg from a broken furniture. She cursed at the shattering pain that failed her coordination.

Taking no chances, he pulled her legs crawling away and put his weight over her wringing body. Just to tame her, he punched her square in the face sending Daenerys to a temporary paralysis. This allowed Jaime to lock her head between the crook of his elbow and the side of his body.

Tightening the hold, the lion could see the veins protrude in her temples, her violet eyes turn glassy as she tries to wheeze a breath through her blocked air passageway and scratching his forearm bloody.

It was just where he wanted her to be. "Like father, like daughter."

_______________________

A tall noble lady approached Tyrion's table. Amidst being surrounded by first class fine dining atmosphere, she appears too regal for a five star restaurant which he presumably considered beforehand as sufficient for her tastes. But to his dismay, it seemed to cheapen by the minute. In his defense though, it was the best one in the North.

"I apologize for meeting with you on such short notice, Lady Stark." Tyrion stood to welcome his guest in her seat.

She acknowledged him with a nod and sat on her seat just when the light hit her face temporarily. It was manifested by a reflection of a dome cover plate carried by a waiter who passed by. She squinted away from the piercing discomfort that only lasted a second.

Lady Catelyn Stark, the face of great beauty in her prime, has changed drastically. To his observation, she appeared to have aged quicker than she supposed to under the youthful fine silk dress and signature fur coat she was wearing. And her volatile erratic behavior has taken over her old self.

Unaware of his gawks, Catelyn Stark sat poised as her hand waved beckoning a waiter to take their order while they settled in their seats. "I believe we haven't seen each other since your father's death, Lord Tyrion."

"I have been away for quite awhile now. The annual festivities have gone dreary." Recalling how much he hated the socials, he just smiled respectfully.

"There is nothing I could agree more." Catelyn returned the expression and suggested. "But perhaps we should set aside the small talks and discuss why you arranged this meeting in the first place."

"This is far too premature for the weight of our upcoming discussion but if you insist." He chuckled awkwardly. 

"This is about Robb, I presume?" Her brow raised, a bit disinterested at the agenda and more enthused about the menu and wine selection the restaurant  has provided.

The waiter jutted their orders and walked away.

"So what's this about?" Catelyn asked again.

Tyrion pressed his lips together, reluctant to express the issue at hand which he planned to wait until dessert but who's to contradict the Lady of Winterfell? "It's about your  _stepson_."

Her nose flared in aversion. "That bastard is no son of mine."

"But of course. I just have a few questions." His dow eyes seemed to assure her.

She sighed reluctantly. "What has he done now?"

"Nothing out of the usual or perhaps  _not yet?_ " He suggested — just in case she knew something.

"I hate to say this but I may serve no help to your investigation, my Lord."

The waiter arrived with their appetizers and a bottle of summerwine.

Tyrion waited for the man to leave before pleading. "Please. Any information could only lead us a step closer to finding out who he is."

Lady Stark laughed louder than what is expected of a lady.

Tyrion almost looked uncomfortable and people from the nearest table scowled at her but she didn't give a damn about it.

What began as laughter downturned into choleric nagging. "The whole world knows who that devil is and the shame he's marred on our house. What do I possibly know that you don't already?"

Tyrion straightened up on his seat trying not to feed her temper. "As a young boy, what was Jon like?"

She was hesitant at first but suddenly gave in. "He was a shy boy. He likes to be alone and solitary unless called upon by his father. And he was close to Robb. They both don't see it but deep inside I knew — I knew that something sinister was brewing in that boy."

"And what are the signs that have convinced you he was different?"

"He was aloof. He either locks himself in his room and reads day and night or he scavenges the trash for metals." Catelyn cleared her throat and grabbed his stumpy hand.

Tyrion was caught of guard —not from the cold touch but from her morbid and wide-eyed glower that seem to demonstrate lunacy.

"I swear I caught him reading the book of 'The Stranger' once or twice and his behavior erratically changed as if he was possessed. And he mumbles and whispers to Ned in closed doors. He probably cursed him to his death!"

"My Lady, we cannot simply accept curses and possessions as valid statements in the eyes of the court." He started to speak rationally to keep her at bay.

"But he killed Ned!" She insisted even without concrete evidence.

"Is there even some truth to these allegations?"

She stayed quiet, tempering her anger with another glass of wine.

He sighed laboriously. Lady Stark's statements about Jon Snow were subjective and hateful. And that, her upcoming statements nonetheless would be useless to Tyrion. "I suggest we discuss this some other time without the intoxication. Goodnight, Lady Stark."

Upon his ascend from his chair, he clasped his binder under his arm, paid for the food and gave a nod of farewell before turning his back.

A bit insulted, Lady Stark watched as the small man walked away.

Out of the blue, a piece of glossy card fell from the black binder and swayed aerodynamically on it's way down to her shoe.

When she picked it up, the air started to sour as the background chatter of the restaurant was completely drowned and muted. She couldn't take in any breaths; not when she realized it was a photo of something she thought she'd never see again. "Wait!"

_______________________

A jeep crashes through the metal door frame busting out its front lights and side mirrors for it was too wide.

As the dust fluttered all around, Jon noticed the flickers of light, unusual writhing movements and a sound of a man screaming. "You fucking bitch! I'm going to get you you fucking bitch! Where are you? I'm going to kill you!"

With no time to waste, Jon jumped off from his jeep to search for her. He followed the voice of the man moaning from the pain, walking drunkenly in every direction.

The man didn't need to turn around so Jon could recognize him. His golden hair revealed enough of his identity.  _Jaime Lannister._

"I can hear you, bitch! You will pay for this!" He turned to Jon and charged to tackle him.

Jon Snow evaded him easily and he subsequently noticed that his famous green eyes were burnt to the sockets. He smelled of burnt flesh and blood.

"Come here you—!"

The wolf couldn't stand another sound of that word so he threw him one solid punch that knocked him out of conscious.

"Dany?" He called, but the dust was almost clearing up and it seemed like nobody's around. It was upsetting that they have been in the same room but not at the same time. The frustration was killing him.

A figure of a woman emerged from the thin cloud of dust, panting and weak that she almost collapsed. The very blowtorch Jon used just hours ago was in her hand. "Jon?"

The sweet sound of her soft angelic voice felt like it sucked his soul and forced it back in again. He nearly stumbled, his knees losing its strength to carry his weight, his breath jagged and his skin reacting like magnet towards her.

"Dany! Are you hurt?" He embraced her, cradled her in his arms as they sinked to the floor.

She sobbed. "I'm so s—"

He interrupted her apologies with a kiss. "I've missed you."

"What happened back in the—Neck was my fa—ult. But I didn't m—ean it." Her tears welled and her words stuttered. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her cold cheek to his feverish neck.

"It's alright." He said while kissing her silver hair.

"I thought I'd never see you again." Her voice croaked.

"I'm here, love." He squeezed her, inhaled her and he never felt relief this intense that it was tranquilizing and addicting.

To be alone again, ignoring the dead bodies and the unconscious one surrounding them, they just held each other as if it was a way to recharge from being away for so long. And in minutes, their breaths evened.

Jon cupped her cheeks to see her face. Although, the side of her mouth started to swell and her tears making wet lines on her dusty cheeks, her beauty still took his breath away.

Her regretful expression of causing their separation in the Neck made him a ton lighter. He wanted to crucify himself at that moment for ever doubting her love for him. And he never wants to be separated from her ever again.  _Never again._

"We will do this together. Promise me—trust nobody else. Just the two of us." He told her consolingly with a conclusive tone connoting the decision is made.

Daenerys froze. Her eyes wide. "Jon—I—"

His thumb stopped her lips so he could say what he's been keeping in his heart the moment she ran back to the cottage brokenhearted and left him. His dark eyes were intent and somehow hopeful. "I'll live for you, Daenerys. For us."

Her jaw slacked by the words that came out of his mouth—speechless. For a moment there, she thought her heart stopped beating for good as the happiness rushed through her veins like heroin.

Involuntarily, her lips crashed to his like it was her lifeline. "Thank you. I love you, Jon."

"Always and beyond forever." They kissed passionately and hungrily that it seemed nobody could stop them.

But they were wrong. The alarm on Jon's watch resounded.

WARHEAD DETONATION    
COUNTDOWN   
**00 hrs 10 mins**

"Let's go." Jon told her calmly, taking his time to move a lock of silver hair from her face and tucking it behind her ear.

"Do we have to?" She jested and giggled.

"I'm not breaking my promise seconds from declaring it to you." Jon chuckled and helped her up.

"Fine." Her violet eyes sparkled just as she smiled.

They walked back to the jeep hand in hand until Dany tugged him and looked back at the fallen lion. "Wait."

"What?"

"He doesn't deserve to die this painlessly." She suggested.

Jon had a playful smirk on his comely face and kissed her on the cheek before dragging Jaime to the backseat and handcuffing him just to be safe.

They escape driving 200 miles per hour just to be far enough that explosion won't flip them over and over and kill them in the process.

WARHEAD DETONATION    
COUNTDOWN   
**00 hrs 01 min**

The last 60 seconds of the Ghiscari Empire, was quiet in the desert night. The distant castle shrinking by the second as they drove away appeared ethereal and imaginary because, seconds away, it will be obliterated as if it hasn't existed in the first place. It will remain only a memory.

And just as the Ghiscari Empire, the Targaryen Empire and it's Dragon Mob will cease to exist. By one nuclear missile, her family, her legacy, her ancestral home will be erased and she will be the last of her kind.

Anticipating the big bang, she held her breath and Jon's hand on hers.  _It's too late, I'm too late,_ she thought.

The whizzing sound commenced as a whisper until it grew louder and louder that it became deafening.

Jon never looked back unlike Dany who locked her eyes on the distant stronghold of Old Ghis.

The missile came to view so tiny that Daenerys miscalculated the massive explosion that broke loose and shook the earth. The blinding white light that lasted for 3 seconds made her forget where she was or if she survived the blow.

The vehicle almost hovered forward from the force of the impact even if they were at least 24 miles away. Debris flew like bullets but Dany couldn't take her eyes away from the yellow, red and orange clouds the made the night sky bloody.

Finally, the gravity came back that the jeep swerved to regain its control. It was beautiful and destructive. It was a sight mixed of horror and wonder. But it perplexed her though when Jaime Lannister slept through it all. Jon on the other hand was as expressionless as an obsidian's darkness.

"So it's all happening around the world? — the Chaos you've created. All those warheads deployed to destroy."

"Not quite." He said, staring at the ocean under the moonlight. "It's just getting started."

"What do you mean?"

"There's always a sequence to the perfect symphony. Tonight was the first wave — the  _crescendo_  after the soft and quiet introduction." He hummed to demonstrate his metaphor. "Three targets decimated with Dragon Mob warheads."

"So their war begins against the Dragon Mob." She tried to keep her voice even. No matter how she tries to deny it, her family's legacy is still significant to her.

"It wouldn't be for long."

"How many waves are there?" She asked.

"Just three." Jon replied, his jaw tightening. "Why?"

"I thought I was too late!" She bursted in realization.

"What are you talking about?"

"Jon, we have to send the coordinates of your targets to Robb, now." The tone of her command was strangely promising and optimistic.

The car screeched to a stop and the desert sand flew in the air around them.

 _Did she forget what we spoke of just moments ago?_ In irate, Jon exploded himself when he comprehended what she meant. "You told them? The fucking Order of the fucking Seven?!"

On the edge of her seat, Daenerys was stupefied. Not in a thousand years has she expected him to react so furiously. "I'm not part of them anymore."

"And Robb!?" His raised voice sounded so inhuman.

"He still is — but he's willing to help us." She tried to calm him down speaking soothingly.

" _Help_? You mean sabotage my plans! Two days ago, it didn't seem like he was in a helping mood." He punched the stirring wheel causing the horn to emit a trumpet-like noise.

"He's your brother!"

"Half brother." He corrected her. "Who's side are you on, Daenerys? First, you brought the Order to capture me, and now, you're conspiring with them against me?"

"I have just torched the eyes of the Top Agent in the Order, the brother of its Commander and you think I am against you?!" The blood was rising up ringing in her ears.

"I chose to trust you even after all that's happened but you're making it difficult for me now that you've plotted behind my back as if this was your own crusade!" He yelled accusingly and started the vehicle again.

"If this was my crusade, I wouldn't result to mass genocide on innocent people who didn't know any better, who wished they had a different life!" She scrupled in defense.

"And that's exactly why you've conspired against me." His foot went heavy on the gas pedal, formulating reasons for her alleged betrayal.

"No! I only want you to give these people a chance." Her voice was pleading to understand her.

But Jon Snow thought it was all impracticality. "What do you want me to do? Send them to counseling, evaluate and set every good soul who made the wrong choices free?"

"I know it is difficult to decide who lives and who dies."

"I already explained who lives and who dies, haven't I?"

"Then how about protecting the civilians in the proximity of your targets?"

"As if I have time for that?" To him, it's as if she forgot to rationalize and that she was daydreaming that everything would end well just like in fairytales. But he always believed fairytales to be blasphemous to the real world. He grew up with Old Nan's stories and it was always grim. And yet it was closest to his reality.

"There's always time for mercy, Jon." She said softly, forfeiting.

"You shouldn't have come here, Daenerys  _Stormborn_." He stressed on her codename. It was the first time he ever called her that.

She took his mention of her codename as an insult for allegedly conspiring with the Order. Crossing her arms and looking the other way, she agreed. "Well, I wish I hadn't!"

______________________

"Well, fuck me. My sails are ruined!" Repairing his sails with patches, Daario Naharis expressed his protests to the wind. He wished the redhead would have told them,  _she seemed like she knew something._

"Do you think they survived?" He heard Meera ask Jojen, completely ignoring Daario's dilemma.

"Yes." Jojen answered without uncertainty as he stared at the distance waiting for a sign of life.

"Say, what's the deal on ginger here and that pompous ass?" Daario interrupted the smug siblings.

"That pompous ass' name is Jon." Ygritte's raspy voice broke their group to hear her speak to them for the first time from being so solitary minutes ago.

"So I've heard." Daario rolled his eyes and turned away from her.

"Jon Snow saved our lives." Meera contemplated again as if she was talking to herself.

"What? You're telling me that that asshole is  _Jon Snow_?" He was in disbelief. He has heard this man's name in every country he has been in and tales of the bastard spoken in different languages. "How could he be Jon Snow? You mean to tell me, the man who stepped into my boat—who stood here in this very spot—was Jon fucking Snow?"

Ygritte sighed rolling her eyes.

The two siblings continued to stare at the distance ignoring his mindless chatter.

Daario was quieted by his own revelations. He knew there was something off with the guy.  _And he knows Daenerys, too. But she probably hates him for how he treats women,_ he reckoned recalling how he choked the redhead to death.

"He's back!" Meera announced pointing at the vehicle ravenously speedy like it was floating on dust.

Ygritte moved past them to get a clearer look but the siblings didn't mind just knowing their rescuer is alive. Daario on the other hand, was fidgeting in anticipation just to see a glimpse of that silver hair.

The jeep arrived drifting to a stop and the first person who came out from the passenger door was the girl of his dreams. Daario's soul leapt.

Ygritte grunted and disappeared to the front of the boat.

"That's your girl?" Meera was impressed but highly doubtful.

"Is that hard to believe?" In the proudest lie he had to commit, he need not worry since they didn't have to know the truth. "Daenerys!" He called her waving and beckoning for her to get aboard.

Dany stormed in up to the sailboat and passed through the group as if she didn't see them at all. She went straight to her bag— rummaging through her stuff.

"She doesn't look too happy to see you." The crannogwoman commented, with a snigger escaping from her thin lips.

"Have we seen him before, Meera?" Jojen asked, watching Jon pulling an injured man from the backseat.

"He looks just like—"

"Exactly." Jojen confirmed.

"Jojen," Jon called for him to help on carrying the unconscious man into the lower deck.

"Thanks for saving her, man." Daario extended his hand to shake Jon's but he just gave him a look before throwing Jaime below deck.

 _Ooookay?_ Daario mouthed when he turned and walked towards Daenerys sitting on the floor fiddling with her phone. "You alright? Did that Jon Snow do that?" He kneeled in front of her and touched her chin to check the bruises on her face.

"No." She replied and met his gaze before tapping on her phone again.

"So who's our visually challenged hostage?" He scooted beside her.

"Not now, Daario." Dany warned him.

To his observation, she seemed herself but quite different. Her annoyance didn't look playful anymore. She was dead serious and angry. And then he noticed her cleaning the dried blood under her fingernails.  _She must have fought the man below deck._

"Hey, mister! Do you have some first-aid kit or something?" Meera interrupted his train of thought. "And she needs ice," noticing Dany's swollen cheek.

"I don't know. The coast guards never laid eyes on this boat for safety standards—" he grumbled lazily until Meera grimaced. "You know what? Let me check. Davos might have it hidden somewhere."

"Hi! I'm with my brother Jojen. My name is Meera by the way." She was sparky, even with the tiny clotted cuts on her face.

"I'm Daenerys," she smiled politely, putting her phone aside.

"You're very pretty."

"So are you, darling. You're very sweet." She thought her dark curls were beautiful. And it reminded her of Jon who was across the deck talking to Jojen. She fumed again remembering their argument and how untrusting he made her feel.

"Are you a Targaryen?" Meera asked bashfully as if being one is considered sacred.

"Is it  _that_  obvious?"

"Your prominent features gave it away."

"Unfortunately. How do you know Jon, if I may ask?"

"My brother and I, we were Grazdan's prisoners but Jon rescued us." Her eyes lowered as if to remember a dark memory. "How do you know each other?"

"Here's your kit, missy. Now, skedaddle." Daario appeared with a bloodstained white bag.

"Thanks," she grinned taking it from him. "Nice meeting you, Daenerys."

"You, too, Meera." She watched as Meera went back to Jon's side. Peculiarly, she raised the hem of his shirt only to reveal a bullet wound in the side of his stomach. Dany couldn't deny how the worry smacked her in the face.

"So, where are we headed now, my queen?" Daario startled her by throwing the tiny bag of ice to her lap.

"I'm not your—. Honestly, I have no idea." She muttered, closing her eyes and enjoying the cold sensation on her burning bruise.

"Should I ask pretty boy?" He suggested.

"Don't! He's an ass." She muttered. Her tears were welling back but she kept her eyes shut and calm herself down.

"Tell me about it."

A step or two, she felt Daario's presence in front of her again. "18.971° North and—"

She opened her eyes instinctively when she heard someone else's voice.

Jon was kneeling in front of her. The thread and needle still hanging from his stitches whilst telling her the coordinates of his targets. "—72.285° West,17.189° North and 88.498° We—"

With no control of her emotions, she jumped to hug him and kiss him.

"Would you let me finish?" He laughed and hissed as his stitches were slightly tugged. "I'm an  _ass_ , huh?"

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you, baby!" She cried. "You may continue."

"Alright, sprightly." He kissed her forehead.

Before he could speak again, Dany disrupted him again with a kiss. "Thank you."

"I'm sorry. I know you only meant well." Kissing her non-swelling cheek. "Can I write the coordinates down?"

"Here." Dany handed him the mobile phone Robb gave her. "His number is in the contacts."

"I'm only doing this because I trust you — not him." He warned her, just to make it clear.

"I know and I trust him. Robb will take care of the civilians. He won't betray you, Jon. He loves you." She whispered, giving him one last peck.

Jon lifted his weight, there was a split second where his brooding glare met Daario's and then back to Daenerys as if to tell him she's his. "Darling, do you mind if I make a few calls?"

"Not at all." Daenerys couldn't keep her grin from reaching her ears. It almost hurt but she lost control.

When she got her senses back, she noticed her emotional outburst caused a stir in the boat. The siblings were smiling mischievously at her, Ygritte in the far corner locking her eyes at Jon and Daario with a sour defeated simper.

"Well, that was cliché." He commented when Jon was far enough to eavesdrop.

"What do you mean?" Still flushed, she asked sincerely. Her eyes on Jon speaking to the phone like a god.

"You? And him? Together?" Daario was incredulous. "You're the beautiful damsel and he's the equally charismatic man out to save you. Typical."

"Excuse me? Who you calling a damsel?" Her eyes narrowed. Describing her as a weak woman is the top of her list to royally tick her off.

"Baby," Jon interjected to give her the good news. "Edd's on his way."

"Edd?!" Dany smiled like a kid again and Daario chuckled at how she acts so chirpy when hours ago, she was grim, easily peeved and deadly.

"Boatman," the wolf called the smuggler's attention.

"It's Daario." He scoffed, trying to be unimpressed by Jon's physique and status.

"Daario. Would you like to come with us? It's much safer." Jon genuinely offered.

He was taken aback of how Jon can be such an ass and then be a really thoughtful guy in a matter of two seconds. But of course he had to decline. "And leave my boat? Nah. I have to sail to Flea Bottom."

______________________

"Where'd you take this?" Catelyn asked desperately as Tyrion turned back to snatch the photo from her fingers to examine it.

It was Jon Snow's silver pen.

"We've collected photos and took items — which are believed to be Jon Snow's in his hideout in the Neck," he informed her as he returned to his seat.

"That murderous snake! That pen is not his. It's Ned's — handed down to the Lord of Winterfell from generation to generation." She slammed the table to emphasize the importance of it. "It belongs to my son."

"Do you abolish the possibility of your husband purposely giving it to Jon instead?" He asked, probing in defense of the bastard not being there to do so.

"Of course! He must have stolen it."

"Through the years of profiling Jon Snow, no matter what his crimes were, theft was never one of it, My Lady." He stated, reexamining his binder. "Should I include it in his profile then?"

The Lady of Winterfell shook her head and sighed to a confession. "He was very close to my husband — something that has tormented me every single day since he carried that tiny babe in his arms from the war."

"If it's not too much to ask — why would a father and son relationship trouble you, Lady Stark?"

"Ned wanted to legitimize him." She said disapprovingly.

Tyrion froze. "That would mean the line of succession falls on—"

"But Robb is the Lord of Winterfell now." She declared in a dismissive manner. "Please give it back to him."

"It will be returned to its owner in due time. In the meantime, it is ours for investigation."

"Jon Snow must pay.  He must be punished by the crimes he's committed that had plagued our house!" She clutched his hand again. This time her nails sinking to his skin.

"When we apprehend him, he will face the court's justice." Tyrion calmly tried to remove her hand but it gripped tighter.

"No. I want him dead." She spoke through her teeth with cold hard determination in her eyes.

In a surge of blinding light, a whizzing sound and a deafening explosion rocked them as if it was happening inches away.

Tyrion grabbed her as they plunged to the floor at the nearest wall for safety. "Get the fuck down!" He instructed the people as if they could hear him. He couldn't even hear himself.

Catelyn closed her eyes as she felt the strong rough wind almost tearing and yanking her to pieces.

Tyrion on the other hand saw everything after the blinding light, the facility walls and roof tore apart as people and everything inside thrown and ripped to nowhere. The destruction, the horror, in front of him turned worldly matters to shit.

 _Is this the end of the world? The apocalypse? The Long Night?_ He queried trying to find the answers in his head. He shut his eyes closed, ready for death to envelop him until everything stopped.

The particles of dust flew and finally cleared to reveal the rest of the area has been demolished completely by something unnatural —  _manmade_.

By the nuclear smoke flying in the distance, he reckoned what stood there on that very place where the nuke fell.  _The Dreadfort — resident castle of the Boltons._

There was no one else Tyrion felt responsible for such destruction to the house of the man who killed his father.

_JON fucking SNOW._

_______________________


	28. 26 | THE AFTERMATH

  
_12/15/16_

_8 hours from the blasts of the First Wave_

Hell was an understatement, Tyrion thought, as the smell of gunpowder and burnt flesh was brought upon by cloud of ashes that cascaded into the barracks The Order has assembled in a battleship anchored in the outskirts of warfare. He was confounded of how this dystopia of some sorts came to be and how the advent of such destruction was unforeseen.

Cold sweat trickled from his forehead down to the slash of his face as he watched the highlights of the devastation flashed on their surveillance monitors which were shaking and rattling from the echoes of war.

Dragonstone, the stronghold of the Dragons for hundreds of years, stood massively resilient in the island. The motives were still unfathomable as to why they had wreaked havoc.  _And why now?_ It wasn't quite right seeing the oldest most organized crime syndicate commence war and yet are bustling around with no preparation to defend their gates. If there's anything he knew about Viserys, it's that he is a self-centered coward who would never risk anything unless all odds point to a guaranteed victory especially against of what remains of the Tyrell Mob's militia.

Tyrion's nemesis of wits, Olena Redwyne, led their bannerman in a siege to avenge the death of their House.  _The woman has an iron backbone but most of all, she had nothing to lose_ , he reasoned to himself in appreciation to her foolish bravery and stubbornness – but mostly her stubbornness.  _Viserys Targaryen was stupid enough to let the strongest rose live._

The vestiges of the Old Ghis and the crater that has formed where Dreadfort once stood were also on one of the screens. The Boltons and the Old Ghiscari Empire were wiped out with one blow and as much wickedness as they have inflicted, they were part of the very first ancient houses that shaped Westeros and Essos. And now, it's as if they had never existed.

Tyrion huffed, releasing the tension of his tightening lungs. He had never seen such tragic occurrence in his lifetime. He only recounts outbursts that marked the pages like this in the old history books. This tragedy will definitely be written with pages as long as the Field of Fire.

The flashing images were like jigsaw puzzles that needed to be solved to reveal who the perpetrator was.

With no time to waste, his mind never drifted off to the tough task of discovering who was behind all this. Viserys Targaryen has not been shy about his deathly feelings towards the Tyrell Mob—but towards the Boltons? What does he have against a small scale mob operating in the North led by Roose Bolton's bastard son? And what could the Dragon King possibly gain from the annihilation of the Old Ghiscari Empire?  _And why is it instigated so publicly?_  Only a stupid fool would think Viserys has planned all this without a puppeteer pulling his strings. There were a number in his counsel who had the capability to manipulate the Dragon King but there’s only one man was in charge of designing his weapons—the only one who had the control and power to wipe out the world if it was his bidding.  _Jon Snow._

Their brief interaction revealed that Tyrion had been underestimating the bastard for years. All the while, he thought Snow was the key to all the mobs—a rat he can torture to reveal all the secrets of the syndicates in the black market. And yet, all along he was so much more. He is a subject of interest that the commander cannot shake off before he retires to slumber that if, indeed, Jon Snow had more sinister plans behind his crimes.

The bastard did have motives for the Dreadfort's obliteration and the only fondness he has for the Old Ghiscari Empire was of their stupidity. But still, Snow had no reason to attack their wealthiest customer—the Tyrells. But then again, it wasn't about the gold knowing the reports of how he supported the wildlings and other rebels by compensating the lack of basic necessities of life.

There had been no news to his survival from the blow-up of the Old Ghis but Tyrion cannot dismiss the White Wolf's involvement. It could all be a ploy for his escape and to do that, he needed support from a confederate. It was easy to assume but The Order had nothing close to prove all of suspicions.

 _This does not add up_ , he thought, shaking his head in frustration. The suspect should benefit from all three explosions. There should be a reason for each one. And the only way to prove his initial speculations is to break into Dragonstone, investigate and gather intel.

The thought of infiltrating Dragonstone brought him back to the two operatives who could do the deed flawlessly—Viserys's sister, Daenerys and his brother, Jaime. There were still no signs as to where they were or whether they were present in the vicinity of the explosion.

"I need someone to find a rat on the Dragon Mob—offer gold over blood. We have enough of it spilt as it is. Find out what the fuck is going on." Tyrion ordered his soldiers who had gathered around the long rectangular table, and some of which joining the teleconference from all the affected areas. Everyone nodded. "Any updates on the survivors of the Old Ghis destruction?"

"Only a handful of slaves and unsullied soldiers, sir." The operative from the screen replied, squinting his eyes under the blazing heat of the Ghiscari dessert.

Tyrion felt his chest in the midst of collapsing. It has been approximately 27 hours since he has heard from Jaime and the hope for his safety is slimming thin. "Search the area, find clues—anything that could lead us to my brother, Daenerys—and Jon Snow."

"Snow? Sir, the Maesters of the Oldtown dismiss the speculation of his survival nor his connection to the nuclear explosions." Lancel, a new recruit who had quickly ranked high above his peers due to his nobility in the Westerlands, opposed to his commander with such confidence and lack of intellectual capacity.

Almost immediately, Tyrion felt the blood rise through the veins in his temples caused by none other than his idiotic cousin. He held his breath in attempt to delay his outburst. "And how would those ancient receding assholes deduce this with no further proof?"

And as if on cue, he replied with a sense of self-entitlement and no consideration of the warning signals from the men around him. "Sir, the Maesters insist we focus on stopping the war."

"I'll be right behind you, cousin Lancel, when you stop these mobs armed with weaponry that could pulverize you with one shot. Do you have any idea who supplied these weapons? Hmm? The same person your Maesters want to absolve from manufacturing the nuclear missiles that shook humanity." Tyrion stood from his seat and threw his wine glass towards his cousin who covered his face instinctively. "I am not under their jurisdiction, corporal. I have no obligation to give them a fuck. Now, you, on the other hand, are under mine. Do you understand what that means or do I have to spell it for you, dear beloved cousin?"

The men and women held their amusement as much as they could while Lancel sobbed, bowed his head and walked out of the tent after he affirmed, "Understood, commander."

"That is enough," Ser Barristan Selmy silenced the hushed laughter and approached the table with a brief report in his hand. "Commander, I need you to sign this."

Tyrion grabbed the pen that Ser Barristan handed and rushed his signature halfway till he realized it ran out of ink. Pressing his lips together in a tight impatient line, he lightheartedly glared at the old man whom he'd known since he was babe. "Anybody have a decent pen around here?"

The new agents tensed up, patting their pockets for pens. But before four of them have offered a pen in each hand, Ser Barristan beat them to it handing Tyrion the pen from the evidence table.  Signing away page after page, he listened to the speculations his men are discussing.

They were all theories he already thought of. Nevertheless, he listened and continued to scribble his signature smoothly with the silver ballpoint pen only to grasp the fact that it was House Stark's pen from Jon Snow's case files that scattered on the table.

The engraving on the silver encasing was almost too fine to notice until his thumb was able to feel the rough patch in contrast to the smooth cool silver texture. He donned his glasses to the words:

_FOR THE CHAOS THAT FOLLOWS_

The hair on the back of his neck stood up to the familiar phrase he encountered in his childhood—back when he was drowning himself in books, Jaime training to be a fighter and Cersei, a lady.

His senses came rushing back when Ser Barristan's dismissive voice woke him up from his contemplation. "—this is not the work of the Gods, Mallister."

Ser Mallister scoffed at the old man. "Shouldn't we just leave this war to dissolve on its own? I mean—they're all a bunch of crooks fighting a bunch crooks! It sounds like a good day at work to me."

"Hold. That. Thought." Tyrion held his finger to silence them, taking in Ser Mallister's idea as the gears in his brain started whirring back to his theory about the Starks that his father, Tywin, once rejected. He closed his lids shut and shook his head to a memory that he never wished to remember. And now, all of his suspicions point to the remaining descendants of the First Men and their current sovereign ruler.

_1996_

"I do not have the luxury of time to discuss your delusional conspiracies about the First Men, Tyrion." The legendary Tywin Lannister in his prime stood over him. His bear presence was daunting even to his own son.

Tyrion had to step back to get a better view of his father and so his neck wouldn't strain from looking up so high to his father's silhouetted figure caused by the light behind it. “I finally have proof to back up my theory on the Starks, father. They are up to something and all of North will be supporting them."

He scoffed and walked behind his desk. "This again?"

Tywin had a way of reaching to his vulnerable side by just the deep timbre of his voice and Tyrion had enough of his intimidation. "For once in your life, fucking hear me out!"

"Very well." His monotonous voice was partly amused.

His small statured son took a deep breath, stood on the tip of his toes and placed the photos neatly to his father's table. "Here are photos of Eddard Stark and this scientist—Howland Reed—the crannogman who's been publishing his research about the end of the world. They've been spotted in five different locations in two weeks. Beyond the Wall. Dorne. Riverlands. The Grasslands. And the Summer Isles." He smirked, proud of the footages taken from his surveillance. "Call me crazy but that's no coincidence."

Tywin's eyebrow raised with no sign of fascination. "So what if they share a great relation of the apocalypse? What does it have to do with all of these travels?"

"Research." He spoke through his teeth. He had never been so sure about this.

It took a minute before Tywin spoke as he settled to his leather upholstered golden seat. "Are you aware of Ned Stark's soft spot for  _birdwatching_?"

"What?" Tyrion almost laughed at his Tywin's premeditated shallow analysis as if he was hiding something.

"Cameras with zoom lenses—," his thin long fingers surveyed the photographs, "binoculars—bird whistles. If you profiled him properly, you'd be aware of his lavish spending on chasing migrating birds to and from the continent. You should know the difference between assumptions and facts, Tyrion."

"It's a just cover!"

"I detest admitting to this but Ned Stark is an honorable man. And in no circumstances will he imperil the realm." Tywin meant it by the change in his tone but it wasn't enough to convince Tyrion to let it go.

In fact, it only proved his suspicions to be true and consider his father as a conspirator. "Not if Ned Stark believes  _the chaos that follows_  is for the good of the realm."

"Enough of this nonsense!" Tywin stood, hands on flat on his gilded writing table. "No matter how you try to hide your deformity behind your wits, it will never be sufficient to grant you a place in the Order of the Seven and I will make sure it stays that way."

His father's words followed him as he walked out of commander's office but it wasn't something he hasn't heard before. He calmly closed the door behind him and with a newfound purpose looming in his eyes.

______________

In the motionless room full of the Orders operatives, there was one that deviated from the stillness of Tyrion's peripheral vision that brought him back from the past. Processing all the newfound information and the memory he revisited, he wouldn't let the closest thing in the room to the Starks to walk away. "Missandei, where do you think you're going?"

Missandei's rushed movements were inharmonious from the unmoving bodies standing around the conference table. It got her feet frozen in place when all their eyes were on her. "Forgive me commander but our rescue unit is in need of my assistance." She replied as she hid her vibrating phone to the back pocket of her combat trousers.

"They sure are quick to respond for once." He noted with a halfhearted smile, considering the massive number of civilians escorted from the devastation was a very well-organized rescue mission of a much unanticipated phenomenon. "It is very impressive but also—rather quite peculiar."

"Yes—we are lucky." She nodded quickly and cleared her throat at the sight of his narrowing gaze. She knew it was best to keep her words short and concise. The commander will find the slightest jitter of her fingers as something else. She was in luck that both of her hands were in her pockets. "Is there anything I can be of help, Commander?"

"Where is your agent, Missandei of Naath?" He tilted his face slightly which only emphasized the jawline tightening and yet his voice had a hint of sweetness. It was standoffish.

"Lord Stark remains on Northern soil, sir." She answered as she was told to say.

"Tell him, his presence is required with great urgency."

______________

_An hour from the blasts of the First Wave_

"You've got to give me a better response to that Sam." Robb challenged Sam as he took off the pungent and prickly robe the students of Citadel consider their uniform. He stole it and sneaked in to Samwell Tarly's room to sway him of telling where the next targets are. Three were deployed but there were at least seven targets that Dany had mentioned.

Sam's room was too small for a man with his stature. It was poorly lit by a tiny lamp but Robb could make through the outline of his friend as he sat on his small bed squeaking from his weight. "For the fourth time, Robb, I told you, I do not regret this." Sam whispered—wary that someone might hear them.

The Lord of Winterfell paced back and forth in the small space behind the door with collages of posters and photos stuck to it. "He lied to you. Everyone is affected! Criminals and civilians alike."

"Jon did nothing but tell me the truth. He showed me the facts, I examined it and it's accurate. The calculations are astounding." Sam stood as his eyes followed the Robb from left to right.

"Numbers may not be my strong suit but I'm pretty sure it's not the proper determining factor to sugarcoat the genocide you have unleashed." Robb paused in front of him, tugged the collar of his robe and shoved him to the wall. His eyes burning in blue fire. "People you know in the Reach, whom we knew since we were children were slaughtered in their sleep! More than fifty thousand civilians have died—more than a hundred thousand are injured women and children—in the North alone!"

Sam shushed and tried to calm him down. Robb tightening his fists on the fabric around his neck had him breathing in short gasps but Sam held his gaze strong from the piercing eyes of the wolf. "Jon would never make this into something less cruel than what it already is. But it is a small price to pay to save millions."

"Who are you?" Robb lets him go simultaneously shoving him to his featherbed.

"Don't you have to be at your people's aid rather than tormenting me with your judgment? I don't know where Jon is and I don't know where the next targets will be." Sam sat back up trying to regain his balance and his breathing.

"I know where he is. He's d—" Robb then pulls the beeping phone from his back pocket to reveal a message from Jon using the old phone he gave Daenerys.  _He's alive_? Robb didn't know what to make of his brother's survival. All he could focus on was his message that consisted a series of new target coordinates.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood to the realization of the coming of another devastation that is far more gruesome than what the first wave was. He closed his eyes, his nostrils flaring as he released a lungful of air to maintain his composure. "He had made this impenetrable weapon of massive destruction that cannot be controlled nor stopped. What if it has all been a hoax? What if the legends have been subject to misinterpretation?"

"The legends have never been perfect at the beginning, Robb. They were simply the door to how your father discovered the coming apocalypse." Sam chuckled, his belly jiggling with him.

Robb couldn't tell if he was disgusted by how Sam could find himself amused at a time like this or by how quickly he gained back the pounds of fat he lost beyond the Wall. He shook off the thought and focused on his mission. "I'm not questioning the possibility; I'm merely in the limitations of _what if_."

"Now, if that's the case, Jon may not stop nor delay his warheads from deploying but he still has full control over it even if the circumstances alter and point out to be false. You know Jon. He never runs out of plans."

"Full control? You mean—?"

"Don't put too much thought to what I said." Sam stood, keeping Robb from reading into his words and trying to keep himself from divulging any more information.

But Robb couldn't just let it go, pushing Sam to the stone walls again and this time, almost choking the answers out of him. "Tell me everything you know or I swear to the Old Gods, I'd throw you right where the next warhead will plummet and make sure you will be blamed for all this."

In difficulty of gasping for air, Sam was taken aback by how easily Robb would kill him amidst their friendship but even so, he knew he deserves to die, too, to have assisted the orchestration of the chaos. "The people—they need a name to blame. Someone had to be willing to be condemned to the Seven Hells—to save us all. But it can never be me—I am not worthy, Robb—Jon is."

Robb releases his hold of him and with two clicks from his phone, Sam's phone resounded. Sam had a questioning look until he opened the message. It was a photo of a lifeless woman with an infant dead in her arms. "She stopped over High Garden. Gilly—was it?"

He didn't have time to look at Sam's reaction. He was already out of the door and headed to the port of Sunspear.

______________

_12/15/16_

_5 hours from the blasts of the First Wave_

He was drowning. He can feel the cold piercing water filling his lungs as the ice above him thickens. With all his strength, he lunged his fist to the ice floe but it was as hard as solid steel. He tried again, and again. Each time, more feeble and powerless.

For the first time in his life, Jon felt giving up and everything he has worked for. His legs were kicking up, his body fighting through the instinct of survival but his heart was losing the strength to survive.

His eyes dwell on the mass of ice above him as if it was a window to what looked like the sun. The ball of light was bright in the cloudless sky.  _Beautiful_ , he thought.

His body began to shake as the last bit of oxygen in his brain drained. The human natural response got him coughing underwater to wheeze a breath but as his air passages opened, cold water flooded in, fully filling his lungs. He took it as a confirmation, a finishing bullet—to end his wasteful life.

In his final seconds of life, before his vision faded to darkness, the ball of light somehow expanded in size, as if falling from the sky. In its blinding impact—everything was on fire, melting the ice.

It was sudden, and almost burning as a pair of hands jolted him out of the water. He coughed and sputtered the water in intense pain. He looked up to see a silhouette of a young boy standing over him—extending his hand for him.

"Jon, get up!" He said anxiously.

The voice was so familiar, he could almost retrieve it from a memory of the past. But he didn't need to as he saw both of their boyish features on the frigid water's reflection.

Robb grabbed him with his equally small arms and stabilized Jon's balance. "Come on! Get up before we get ourselves in trouble!"

And Jon did compliantly, his heart pounding as he understood the reason behind his brother's frightened cerulean blue eyes.

"We better get back before father finds out we're gone!" He said, fearfully.

"It's okay, it was my fault, anyway. I'll tell him you had nothing to do with it," he smiled, in attempt to console him as they walked the pathway towards Winterfell.

But Robb paused on his steps and shoved Jon, making him lose his footing. "You won't do no such thing! We are brothers, Jon. A lone wolf dies but the pack survives!"

"But Robb—"

"We don't leave each other behind." He silenced him with demanding look on his face, unaware of the imminent horror behind him as the earth come crumbling under their feet.

"Look out!" Jon screamed as they fell into the depths of darkness. They were incapable of comprehending this mass of burned, severed bodies crawling over on top of the other—gnashing their teeth and burying them like a wave of stench, blood and guts. They were like a surging pile of dead bodies—whispering, crying, laughing and screaming in agony so loudly in Jon's ears. "You did this! You did this!" They chanted.

"Jon!" Robb called in desperation, his arm hanging loosely up in the air to reach for his brother's help and his face smeared with blood were the only ones visible in the tide of blood and charred flesh.

A sting in Jon's eyes blurred his vision but he held head high and kicked himself up on the pile and ran to pull his brother's hand. "Robb! I got you!"

He was just in time but the bodies weighed heavier and pulled Robb further down in the sinkhole of death. But Jon never let go, holding his brother's hand with both of his whilst ignoring the screams and whispers of the dead. "For the Chaos—! You did this—you did this!" Both of his arms were down deep. Their faces and hands touching him, feeling his live flesh. "I won't let go, Robb. I won't. Hold on!" His tears flooded down his cheeks and Robb's blood-covered arms were slick and slipping.

In Jon's peripheral vision, a tall red figure was walking towards them. It was a man, covered in blood and ash.

"Help! Please! Help us," Jon cried.

But the man ignored his plea and walked in a slow steady pace. Nevertheless, Jon held on as much as he could and still begged for his assistance.

When the man's distinct features hit the poor light, Jon's strange recognition paralyzed him to his core and felt Robb's fingers slipping from his catatonic grasp. There was that feeling of the torturous cold water slicing through his skin once again as the identity of the man was revealed.

It was his full-grown self—bloody and battle worn—aiming the gun to his pathetic young version of himself at point blank range, smirking soullessly. His soot black eyes were cold and inhuman as his index finger pulled the trigger. "For the chaos."

The petrified Jon closed his eyes and heard the bang. Seconds later he realized he didn't feel it hit him, nor does he feel dead. So his eyes opened in curiosity only to be staggered by the image before him.

He was on the other end of his pistol, holding the trigger and staring at the young boy's pink mists of blood satisfyingly spraying in the air. He killed himself.

And yet he felt nothing.

"—Jon."

The sweet voice calling out his name instantly woke him in the dark. His breaths were rapid and his body was glossed in sweat. He tried to remember his dream but all he could muster was the red hazy image of nothingness.

Trying to keep himself together while registering back to reality, his fingers surveyed the surface of the sheets in the hopes to find the comforting soft naked body of his woman but it was missing. He then realized she wasn't calling out to him but talking about him in the adjacent room of his submarine with subdued noises from a television or radio.

Relieved that she was real, Jon smiled, listening to the muffled sounds of her voice from the other room at the same time recalling the smell of her hair, the warmth of her skin, the sweetness of her lips, the fullness of her breasts and the trembling of her body beneath him. He had to stop himself before his thoughts went wild again. But just like that, his breaths became even again.

Anxious to see her, he grabbed his trousers and his grey shirt from the floor and donned them on his way out of the room. Her words were more distinct now as he was about to open the door but his hand hesitated on the knob.

"—I have to do what I can to save him—. There would be nothing left of him if I let this all happen. I have to save his soul."

"Daenerys," It was Edd she's talking to. "Jon accepts whatever the repercussions of his actions are. He knows nothing will be left of his humanity once the guilt destroys him. But if that's what it takes to save us all—then there is no point of discussing this even further."

"Jon doesn't know it yet but he is drowning—"

 _Drowning? What the hell is she talking about?_ Jon couldn't help but be roused with anger. He wished Edd would put some sense in to her.

"Of course he is! But he doesn't need saving, Daenerys." Edd replied, not exactly what Jon had hoped of hearing from him.

"He does—" she insisted.

"Who does what?" Jon finally had the courage to open the door. It was subtle but he could tell she was startled. Her hands shook slightly as she hurried to turn the television off but it was enough for Jon to see the death count on the screen.

Nevertheless, the wrinkles of worry on her forehead were starting to fade in her mask of a smile. "Jon—you're awake. Are you hungry?" Her words were too fast and her sweet demeanor was unusually exaggerated that he could feel that there was an elephant in the room nobody wanted to address.

He shook his head and kissed her in the forehead, plastering a smile back while trying to make out what he just heard before he entered the room. "Who's driving the submarine?"

"Jojen, boss." Edd stood in haste. Jon couldn't tell the cause of his fidgeting—whether in guilt of leaving the teenage boy in charge of the submarine or talking behind his back. "Smart kid," he added.

"Why, yes. Yes he is." Jon responded seconds too late, staring blankly as he walked at the back of the bar counter. Walking towards the bar, he poured bourbon halfway through the glass and drank it in one swig. Almost immediately, he felt Daenerys shift back to her prying eyes studying him.

"Want me to check on him?" Edd asked and in an instant, Jon saw his escape.

"I'll do it," he said, already on his way down to the staircase with the bottle of bourbon on one hand and a liquor glass on the other.

Jon could notice the air change as he descended down to the control room. It was not as dense as it had been a minute ago or was it just the alcohol working. "Jojen, Meera, how is it going down here?"

"We're good. Actually, we're arriving in two hours." Meera proudly stared at her brother while saying it. He'd manage to take over the control unit flawlessly.

"But of course, without the help of my sister we could have been earlier." Jojen jested.

And Meera punched his arm lightly in response.

Jon Snow chuckled, admiring their bond. They're all what they had after all. They are each other's family—and Robb  _was_  his.

"If you don't mind my asking, who are we meeting?" Meera asked, her bruises now turning a light purplish pink by the light of the monitors.

"The Lord of Winterfell." He said with a tone of disconnection. Calling him  _brother_ just didn't feel right. Robb is the last remaining kin he has but somehow what was left of their relationship has withered through the years. They're just two different people now and wouldn't wish the same fate for Meera and Jojen. They're just kids but they've been through so much.

"Oh, wow," Jojen eyes widened in astonishment. He had a lot of questions in his eyes, Jon could tell. But he wouldn't let the kid get involved with the mess he is in no matter what history Howland Reed has written for his children.

"You and Meera will stay in Lys for now." Jon placed the liquor and glass on the tray and went over the computer to make some adjustments for the unplanned stopover at Lys.

The crannog siblings followed his movements with a puzzled look on their faces—an effort to find a reasonable explanation through the wolf's dark grey eyes.

"When this is all over, you can go back to the Neck and when you're ready, your employment in Winterfell will be waiting for you. I'll vouch your interest to Robb Stark."

"But we want to help. This is our father's cause, too." Jojen stood abruptly and Meera shook his head warning him not to press on.

"There is nothing that hasn't been done already, kid. All you can do next is give this world a brand new start. There is nothing more your father could ever want." Jon kept his eyes to the screen and continued keying the command on the keyboard. He couldn't face the disillusioned expression on their faces but nevertheless, Jon's decision was final.

The crannogman stomped his way out and up to the lounge where Dany and Edd were. Meera, however, tapped Jon's shoulder with reassuringly before following her brother.

The whole interaction made him exhale deeply as if he'd been holding his breath the whole time since he opened the door of his room. He just couldn't understand how people see him. Daenerys, especially.  _How would she know what is going on in my mind? How would she know what was best for me?_

______________

"Honeypot really cares about you in a way that's almost deeply impossible. I'd find it sweet if I can stop myself from vomiting my guts out." Jaime Lannister belched in disgust and took a swig of bourbon as if it were water. He hissed in satisfaction but also from the pain that stung where his beautiful emerald eyes used to be. "Losing my vision really opened my eyes— if you know what I mean."

"A chatterbox—like the imp." Jon commented at the disheveled lion sitting on the floor, handcuffed wrist to wrist and clasping the glass with both hands begging for another pour.

"Well, he is my brother after all." Jaime had the strength to smirk when he heard the bottle clink on the glass when Jon decanted the liquid in. "Why don't we skip the flirting and get on with it. Why are you down here, Jon Snow?"

Jon was quiet for a second, sitting on a stool in front of Jaime and pouring a glass for himself, consuming it and placing it beside his foot. He pulled out Ghost, his favorite magnum revolver from its holster, releases its cylinder, checks the ammo in the small cartridges, takes them out and puts them back in, closes the cylinder and releases it again, over and over, as a way of keeping his hands occupied. He wasn't sure why he's in Jaime's cell in the first place—maybe just a companion to drink soothed him with even if it had to be Jaime Lannister. "My vessel, my prisoner—my questions."

"Forgive me,  _Your Highness_. The pain in my sockets bring out the impatient nature in me." He winced but managed to smile again displaying his white slightly crooked teeth.

"So where's your brother?" Jon asked with no haste in his tone but while he's here, he best check on what Tyrion's suspicions have manifested into from when they last spoke.

"And why would I tell you?" With a hint of intrigue in his voice, he probed.

"Nothing important—just your freedom, is all." He breathed, bored of the expected response.

Jaime was quiet and then burst into laughter. "I like a good lie, Jon Snow. I believed you for a second there."

"Was I lying?" Jon watched the hollow-eyed man change expression after expression trying to read through his words. "People try so hard making lies sound like truths when it's much more enjoyable making truths sound like deceits. That way, I can say whatever I want."

"You just lost me there. What are we talking about again?" Jaime had to be cautious. It was easy enough to spot a manipulator such as himself. And in these moments, it's best to play dumb.

"Tell me where Tyrion Lannister is." His voice was a bit higher in volume this time as he was growing impatient.

"I don't know. Didn't you blow up the country? He's probably dead." The sleazy man sneered.

Jaime just tipped the scale of his temper and the wolf swatted the glass from his hands and pointed his gun to the center of his brows.

Pushing people off the edge of anger is like a drug to Jaime. "That's right. I heard you two arguing after the explosion. You really are your father's son. I always knew you Starks are up to no good."

"What you know now would not mean a thing when you're dead."

He laughed and pushed his forehead closer to muzzle as if to assist a cleaner aim. "Enough with the threats. Just do it."

"You think it'll be that easy?" Jon scoffed and grazed the cold barrel of his gun to the hollow of his eyes.

He curses in pain and Jon felt that familiar vicious urge to hear it louder.

"Tell me where he is." Jon pushed harder into his left socket.

Jaime was wild, his legs started kicking and wriggling on the floor. He whimpers and shouts in agony, shaking his head back and forth to avoid the intrusion of his wound. "I told you, I don't know! I don't know!"

But the wolf held his head firmly in space as he squats beside the screaming man.

Jaime has been tortured before but not like this—not with his freshly burnt eye sockets and flesh around his eyes. His torture endurance training has not prepared him for this.  "He—he was in the North before I lost contact! —At Hornwood!" His voice broke just pleading for the pain to stop.

When muzzle was removed from his wounds, he immediately croaks in relief. If his tear ducts weren't scorched with his eyes, he would have been crying by now.

All Jon could take in were empty sobs and heavy breathing. His beloved pistol was now covered with fleshy bits and filth. He retched in repugnance at the sight and consequently wiped it in Jaime's already soiled sweater.

He used to be delighted in this type of activity but it just wasn't enough to feed satisfaction from it anymore. Overtime, it just became a tedious procedure to get answers. "What was he doing in Hornwood?"

Jaime Lannister hesitated at first but when he heard Jon motioning his gun towards his eyes again, he knew he couldn't endure the torment anymore. "Catelyn—Lady Stark! He wanted to know more about you."

Jon let's go and stands up in his feet looking down at Jaime before heading out to the door.

He spitted as he heard Jon walking away. "Fuck you, Snow."

Footsteps paused. "You don't think you deserved this?" 

"Does my treachery measure the suffering I deserve? Sometimes I ask myself, if doing all these bad things for the good of the realm would merit me a less painful end. Would that be enough to what I deserve? But the world has a sick sense of humor, does it?" He found a way contemptuously smile under the circumstance of throbbing discomfort. "Out of all the people I've done wrong, it had to be her to collect my debts."

"You killed her father. She's not really the kind of girl who can hand you a less painful end."

"Trust me, I have done worse to others. I did her a favor."

"A favor? Killing her father was a favor—to her?" Jon scoffed, incredulous.

"Her brother gave me the orders to kill him—to protect her and Viserys from getting involved in the Dragon Mob. He planned the assassination—I merely executed."

Jon couldn't believe it for a second until he evoked what he already knew. Rhaegar would reach any heights to protect Daenerys.  _He used Jaime, he used me—all because of his love for her._  All this time, the Dragon Prince premeditated the downfall of his own father.  _He could do it to his own father_ , Jon pointed out but that's where he drew the line because Ned Stark was no Aerys Targaryen.

"Keep this to yourself, bastard. I can't drag his name with my crimes. At least I owe Rhaegar that after what he'd done for me."

Jon was frozen in place when he heard him say his name. He couldn't deny how similar they were after all, being indebted to the Dragon Prince.

"I was always against it when she was tasked to take you down after you almost killed her back in Storm's End. The water was freezing that night, so thank you very much for the inconvenience." Jaime recollected while he difficultly scoots to the wall and lean back for comfort.

"You actually think I'd buy the idea of you caring for her? You were just about to kill her hours ago."

"That's true. Death is the Order's sentence to rogues. She knows that. Although, the moment she took my eyes away, I had to admit I wanted to chop off every bit of her and dump her remains in Viserys' doorstep. I figured we're even." His knuckles turned white as he squeezed his fists in resentment.

______________

_2 hours later_

The submarine rose above the water in the afternoon sun. The crystal clear waters licked the sides of its gargantuan metal body and glossed like polished silver and as a result, the rays of light it reflected was blinding.

It was a bright sunny day in the port of Sunspear. The sight was so peaceful and beautiful, it could have fooled her that what happened last night was nothing but a dream.

Dany stood atop the rails of the conning tower breathing in the briny breeze with the sun kissing her cheeks. The auks squawk from a distance seemingly calming to her ears.

Footsteps on the steel ladders followed and she didn't need to look to know who it belongs to.

"Did you know these birds don't belong here?" He said. "They don't migrate this far south."

"I didn't notice." She remarked, remembering the effects he said of the coming apocalypse.

Jon didn't respond. Deep thoughts in silence.

She was too scared to look back at him and see his face. "Are you certain they'd be safe in Lys?" Dany spoke under her breath. She still wasn't convinced if he'd made the right decision on letting Jojen and Meera roam Lys on their own.

Jon wrapped his arms around her tiny waist. "They'd be safer without us." Jon breathed her in, cradling his head in the space between her neck and shoulder.

"They're just kids, Jon." She said, this time, fighting the feeling of comfort he gives her. She realized it has always been her weakness to be influenced by him and his ideas.

"They're smarter than most kids." He assured her as he broods at the horizon and simpers. "No. Most adults."

"I suppose." She laughs. How could she resist him? How could she do that to the only person who truly loves her and whom she truly loves?

He loosens his hold of her so suddenly and his jaw tightened.

"What's wrong?" She asked but she got her answer upon seeing his eyes affixed at the sky.

A small dot seemed to glisten in the clear blue skies. As it came closer, Dany was able to make up what it was. It was the Robb Stark's jet aircraft.

Jon signaled Edd for his brother's arrival and subsequently, the surface of the submarine opened to reveal a wide flat surface inside. It was a helipad. "As long as you trust him," he stared into her lilac orbs then.

"I trust him," she swore to his eyes which were now a cloudy grey shade under his long dark lashes.

"Then there's nothing wrong." His lighthearted smile made her heartbeat faster.

"Just be nice," she smiled, hiding her nerves. She'd never seen him and Robb together. Picturing them in one room, she couldn't decide if it would be a delight to see or just the opposite.

He nodded and let go of her. "I'll wait inside."

Dany's heart sunk watching him turn his back and disappear inside the conning tower. She knew it was hard for him to have altered his plans because of her involvement but Dany knew this is for his own good. He needs her more than he could understand.

The sound of the jet turbines were too quiet than the standard that Dany was used to when it landed in the helipad. Its color was a reflective silver. Almost white like the snow up North. "Robb!" She yelled amidst the strong winds brought by the aircraft.

Robb waved through the glass, taking off his ANR headset and his aviator sunglasses before getting off.

Walking towards her, he was not his usual cheery self she expected and yet she was not surprised.

But Robb never fail to give her the warm hug. "Let me see, any broken bones? Missing limb?" He playfully scanned her body for any injuries and settled on her bruised cheeks.

She was kind of relieved that she wore her long sleeved sweater and tights to hide the rest of her discolorations. It's nothing new to any covert spy to see a colleague covered with bruises but this time, it just felt different.

"Good. I'm glad to see you again," he smiled after assessing her condition.

"How are you?" She asked.

"It doesn't really matter as long as I'm still standing." He smiled, with sadness underneath his cerulean blue eyes.

"Thank you for doing this." Behind her grin, the instinct of wanting to somehow alleviate his mood heightened.

"My duty is to the people of the realm and all that matters now is keeping what's left of them alive." The melancholic tone of his voice was changed the air somehow. "No need to thank me."

In an instant, Daenerys felt the sting in her eyes hearing it from Robb. The reality is slowly sinking in. "I'm sorry."

"This has nothing to do with you, Dany," he reassured her, brushing his thumb through her bruised cheek. "Now, where's my brother?"

Dany guided her to through the vessel to the sitting room behind the pressurized submarine door.

"Jon." Robb saw Jon by the bar pouring the clear glass bottle of liquor in two glasses and Dany left his side to be with Jon.

"Robb." Jon didn't look up at his arrival until he offered his brother a drink, placing it at the other side of the counter where Robb was.

"I'm not drinking," he refused, pushing the glass away from him.

"Suit yourself." Jon grabbed the glass and drank it himself in one gulp.

The floor beneath him faintly shook as he felt the vessel's submergence. When it stopped, Edd came through the door and sat on the white leather lounge chair, minding his own business.

"You've been busy all these years." Robb commented, his eyes wandering at corners of the room.

Jon scoffed and took another swig.

Daenerys couldn't help but study both their faces. It felt like watching a ticking time bomb. Both mirrored the same expression on being indifferent. She wasn't sure what to say or what to do. Nothing will get accomplished if she didn't do something. Anything. "So—what's the plan?"

Robb walked around the room and stopped at a portrait painting that was strangely ripped on the center of the forehead. "The fastest way to save all civilians is to broadcast the target areas and the corresponding evacuation centers."

Jon leaned both elbows on the counter table, clamping both hands together and glaring at his brother's awful auburn hair that reminded him of his horrid mother. "You have to be dim to think all criminals do not watch the news."

His snarky remark to Robb's equally inconsiderate idea stunned Daenerys. Even Edd felt uncomfortable in his seat.

"Do I care if they survive?" Robb walked over to the sofa, propped his arms on the back support and fingers the white fur covering it.

Jon glowered at Daenerys. He didn't need to express his regrets in words. Involving Robb was an imprudent decision.

"Robb, there must be another way," she reasoned, flustered by the fast developments of their disagreement.

"There is—actually," he pursed his lips, pleased that he finally sparked Jon's attention. "Jon needs to stop this once and for all."

Jon laughs out his annoyance.

"Robb, it's too late. All we can do is brace ourselves." Dany's brows furrowed in confusion.

"It's not what Samwell Tarly told me," Robb said, waiting for Jon's reaction.

Dany's mouth opened in shock and confusion.

Jon remained unperturbed. Robb must be bluffing.

"You didn't tell her?" He sneered at Jon.

"Tell me what?" Dany swallowed the lump in her throat, terrified to reveal another of Jon's secrets and horrified to know how she would feel about it.

"He lied to you." Robb went to her side.

"What are you talking about?" Dany felt her heart was about to explode. She could hear her pulse. She could feel it. Nervously, she backed away from him to hear it from Jon.

"Jon?" She put both arms around his neck, trying to meet his eyes.

He was staring blankly elsewhere and couldn't explain the anger he feels brewing inside.

"Tell her," Robb urged and it didn't help.

Dany could feel Jon tense up. Robb may be bluffing but he couldn't lie to Daenerys again—in front of her.

"It cannot be stopped. But it can be diverted." He spoke as if he'd just betrayed his father.

"What?" Daenerys smiled to hear it and Jon almost wanted the ocean to swallow him inside and out.

This is exactly what he feared. That hope in her eyes sparkling was nothing but betrayal just waiting to happen.

"So change the coordinates, Jon." Robb ordered as if he had some hold on about his plans now.

"It's not that simple. It can only be manipulated in the source locations of the warheads." Jon said and regretted saying. It's as if he's giving in to them.

"How can it not be simple? In The Order, it's our job to infiltrate, accomplish the mission and retreat." Robb said matter-of-factly and Daenerys nodded in agreement.

"Jon, it's feasible if you tell us the where the sources are." The enthusiasm in her voice was apparent and it was enough to throw him off.

"And why would I do that?" He stood, repelling her arms around him. His tone was a bit stronger this time, his Northern accent showing through.

Dany felt her limbs cool and numb. She had to sit to process of what's happening.  _Am I too late to save him?_

"There are innocent lives at stake!" Robb Stark howled that made Edd sit upright and ready.

"I promised father. I gave him my word." Jon stood brooding in the middle of the room, a hand on his hip and the other brushing his beard with on swipe.

"Don't you think your word is shut to hell now, brother?" Robb stomped to be a meter close to him.

" _Stepbrother_ ," he hissed. "This is exactly why father chose me—not because I'm a better man, no. It's not for who I am and what I have; it's for who I'm not and what I lack. He chose me because I have the stomach to do all this wickedness and I am ever capable to survive without a soul."

"Our father is dead. Listen to yourself!" His voice boomed and Daenerys was shaken. She'd never heard him so loudly in a voice mixed with frustration and rage.

"He died and you did nothing! Nothing! He will not die for nothing—not on my watch." His voice was earsplitting, his deep-set eyes were in the shadows and his arm sweep the air so fast to his side like a sword swung in full speed. "You've always been a coward, Robb!"

Robb laughed in contempt. "You left because you couldn't accept your title and yet you accuse me of cowardice?"

"Stop! Please!" Daenerys cried in her seat. She had enough of their hateful blows towards each other.

"I'm going without your help. I'm not sitting this one out and letting this happen." Robb's voice was calmer now, talking to Jon who already turned his back.

"Then you approximately have four hours and twenty three minutes left." Jon sniped.

“Thanks for the heads up.” The Lord of Winterfell sighed, straightening his jacket and motioned for Daenerys. "And you? Are you staying with him or are you coming with me?"

Jon looked at her. He could see how she's hurting just sitting there so still cupping both her ears staring at the pool of tears on the counter table. The image of her should have an effect on him and yet, he felt nothing. "You should both leave."

"Jon?" She looked up, surprised.

"I'll wait outside," he stepped aside and started towards the door and closed it behind him.

"You heard me." His voice was cold, it didn't seem like him.

"But you promised to help." Her head was trying to find something, a reason behind his act.

"I gave you the coordinates of the targets. That's the extent of help I can give. You just had to ask for more, don't you?"

"I don't know, I guess I just expected you to be to more than this," she fought her sobs.

"This crusade is much more than mass genocide. It's saving humanity from extinction!" He stood at the table across her.

"You don't have to do this. If you could just let me—" she was cut off mid-sentence when he heard a huge crack.

Jon just punched the glass book shelf and Dany saw the gush of blood in his forearm as he leaned his hands and forehead against the white wall now stained with red. The cooling contact barely extinguishing his temper. "This is about your own crusade of saving my soul, isn't it?"

"What? Where did you—? It's not—what I meant—" she struggled to find words but he beat her to it.

"I'm not your charity case, Daenerys." He huffed as if releasing every human emotion he has left.

"But Jon—"

"Just leave."

"Don't do this," she was just about to hold him close just so he could calm down and think this through.

"Leave!" He howled and consequently, she froze on her heels midway to him.

"Fine!" Her expression was mixed with anger and disappointment. "The moment I step out of this vessel you know what we'll be and what we'll no longer be. You know that, right?"

"Close the door on your way out." He walked behind the bar emotionless.

Dany wanted to scream in desperation to make him wake up from this nightmare but now, her thoughts has changed otherwise.  _This is the real Jon Snow and he's wide awake_.

She turned to Edd who was feeling sorry for her and she wanted to cry in his arms to feel comfort but she reminded herself that she was a dragon and no dragon should feel inferior towards anybody. Not even a wolf. "Edd, please escort Jaime Lannister in the jet."

Edd didn't know what to respond and switched his attention for Jon's approval.

"He's gone. I let him go," Jon Snow poured himself another drink, never leaving his eyes to the chilled glass filled with bourbon.

Daenerys took a deep breath to control her rage and nodded to Edd goodbye.

She wasn't a person giving up a fight but right now she was too tired to argue. She knew she'll get him for this one of these days. "This is not me leaving. This is you pushing me away."

And closed the door behind her.

_______________________

E N D   O F   C H A P T E R

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading my new chapter. Let me know your thoughts! 
> 
> You may or may not have noticed that in my latest update, I erased the last part of the chapter so I won't confuse you about the time jumps. Instead, I posted it in my instagram account (stormborn_wattpad). It's a scene of Jon and Dany just after the previous chapter--The Dawn. Please check it out if you haven't already! 
> 
> All my love, 
> 
> kayekrystille


End file.
